


After The Inevitable

by Youneedwhat



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Original Character(s), Swearing, after the events of the musical, unrealistic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-09-30 20:24:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17230643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youneedwhat/pseuds/Youneedwhat
Summary: It has been about six months since a musical apocalypse had hit the town of Hatchetfield.Paul lives his life like it is a musical, because it is. He spends his time engaging in musical numbers and worshipping the Mothership. He does still think about Emma and how she escaped him and his Hive, but he knows she will understand one day. After all, it's inevitable.Paul is happy now. Or is he?Life starts to become complicated for Paul and the rest of the infected when not everyone is giving into this musical frenzy, but fighting back.





	1. One

Why do people hesitate to be fixed?

I am self-aware that there was a time when I had hesitated. But that feeling of hesitation and uncertainty is a distant memory now. Any other feeling that isn’t satisfying bliss is a distant memory to me. I was blind then, but the veil has dropped, and I can see now.

I breathe music and live through spontaneous dance numbers. I live in Clivesdale with my colony of musical comrades that help serve the mission to fix the broken souls who are resisting happiness. I pity them. I pity Emma. I tried to save her after my awakening, but she ran from me. From the life we could of had together. But I know she ran out of ignorance, I understand that. My ignorance almost prevented me from this life of unity and contentment. I remember the hatred I once felt for musicals, but I can only remember, not feel it.

“Hi, Paul!” Mr. Davidson says to me with a bright, wide smile as I walk into the office.

Life continues on, even after the events that transpired about six months ago. Human population now belongs to the Mothership, as it should be. We are their children.

I work for Mr. Davidson in the new company building relocated in Clivesdale. I continue to live my old life of going to work and other mundane, human activities. But modern life is no longer mundane, as life is lived through musical number after musical number. And I’m happy. I am finally happy.

I know I am not human anymore, I am better.

“Hello, Mr. Davidson!” I respond with a smile that matches my boss, equal in width.

I do not get a lot of work done, I mostly serve my purpose of engaging in musical numbers which serves the purposes of the Mothership. I am currently in a tap number with my coworkers about which font is better for the weekly reports. Mr. Davidson and Bill are singing why Times New Roman is the best font, while Ted and I are singing an opposing opinion that Calibri is better.

There is no real heat in this argument. We all are too connected to each other and the Mothership to truly have any negative feelings towards each other.

_**We are being attacked. Fight.** _

Our musical number falters and the tapping stops. The music changes from cheerful upbeat to a song with a strong 4/4 drum beat. We all leave the office in unison and join everyone in the streets as we sing in a united chorus. We received orders from the mothership; it is now time to fight. The people who continue their feckless attempts at resisting us have formed a rebellion of sorts. They are disorganized and barely holding together, for all their foolish efforts are futile. It will not be long until everyone has the hive in their brain and a song in their heart.

It won’t be long until Emma has a song in her heart.

Our chorus all breaks away from each other to look for the rebels who have infiltrated our town. I go through an alley way looking for the invaders with two other members of the hive. We check the trashcans to see if they are hiding in there, but we cannot find anyone. We then exit the alleyway and start a three part harmony as we enter and go into an empty restaurant that appears to not have been checked yet.

One of the members of the hive, a young, short woman, goes to search in the kitchen with me, and the other one, a tall man with bright, red hair, goes to check the bathroom. We inspect the entire kitchen and find nothing, but the man with ginger hair is not in the main room by the time we finish.

He must still be looking in the bathroom, so me and the woman head to the bathroom. She goes into the women’s room and I go into the men’s and find myself alerted when I see the tall man who was just singing in our trio, dead, bleeding blue on the ceramic tiles.

I see now we are not alone. So I am not shocked when I hear a loud bang coming from the other bathroom. I rush to the action, but by the time I enter the women’s restroom, the tiny woman is pinning some scared boy against the wall as he shakes like a Chihuahua. His gun is on the ground, the woman probably knocked it out of his hand.

“Don’t be scared. This is inevitable.” She whispers in a comforting tone as she lifts her hand to infect the boy. I pick up the gun and am about to shoot when I am pushed to the ground out of nowhere.

The gun flies out of my hand and my hive minded companion is startled just enough to lose her grip on the boy as he pushes her away. When I see he is running to the gun, I try to grab it first, but someone is pulling me back by my legs. I try to fight off my attacker, but I’m suddenly pinned by not one human, but two.

I have to watch as the boy grabs the gun and shoots my comrade in the head. She did not utter a single sound at being shot, the only noise made was from the bullet going through her brain and her dead body plopping to the ground.

“Harry! We need to keep some alive, you know that.”

The voice comes from one of the men holding me down despite my attempts to escape from their grasps.

The boy, Harry, makes a look of remorse as he mutters “I…I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about Harry.” a tall, dark haired woman states as she walks over to Harry and puts her hand on his shoulder. “She almost killed you.”

I am grunting as I try to free myself, but one of the men grabs me by the hair and knocks my head against the hard floor. I can feel blood start to trickle down my face from my forehead.

“Stop it!” This voice came from one of my pinners, but not the man who scolded the boy. This man has a deeper voice than the one who is speaking to the dark haired woman.

“Don’t make me the bad guy, Liv. I don’t like keeping these freaks alive as much as the next person, but we have orders.”

“And we followed our orders.” This “Liv” then looks to me and says “One is enough.”

“I am not afraid to die.” I interrupt, but it is mostly not me, but the Mothership speaking through me, “You argue like toddlers because human civilization is merely children who need a parent to correct them. You nee-“

“Shut up!” the deep voice yells as he twists my right arm in hopes to quiet me up.

But I now find myself frustrated. Why won’t they just let themselves be guided by the Mothership? I start to open my mouth to begin a moving ballad in the key of A flat, but I can’t get the words out when a needle pokes my neck. I feel dizzy and my surroundings start to blur. Everything is fading to dark and it is not long until I succumb to the same darkness.


	2. Two

I wake to voices speaking in hushed tones.

“How will we know it works?”

“Well, I guess we would check to see if he still has symptoms and th-“

I try to open my eyes, but my lids feel heavy. Where am I? What’s happening? Know how what works? A million questions start to bounce through the walls of my brain. 

“And then we just welcome him with open arms?” 

I know that the question came from the deep voiced man who helped pin me down. How long has it been since that time? How long have I been out?

“Relax, Brian. The capsule might not even work.”

I believe that that came from the girl from yesterday. The one named Liv. 

I can finally start to open my eyes, but the bright lights make me squint. I try to move, but my hands are tied to the frame of a bed. I feel drowsy and weak, feelings I have not felt since before my transformation. 

“Looks like sleeping beauty is up.” Liv walks towards the bed.

I try to respond with a song, but the duct tape covering my lips turns my beautiful lyrics into muffled gibberish. This angers me more and I start pulling against the rope bonding my hands to the bed, but to no avail. 

“Nice try.” snorts the deep voiced man from his position sitting upon a counter. His legs are dangling from the counter and he is holding a bowl in one hand and a fork in the other. He does not appear happy that I am here. Does he not understand that I am also not happy I am here? I do not like being away from the other members of the hive. 

“Hello.”

A young man with curly brown hair and tan skin approaches me in a white lab coat and latex gloves. “I imagine you are startled, for that I am sorry. But I am afraid that grave circumstances results in grave actions.”  
“He isn’t human, Urkel, stop talking to him like he is.” 

The one I believe named Brain states this as he stuffs a meatball in his mouth

“Shut up, Brian.” Liv snaps as she turns to face Brian who shows little to no guilt for his words.

The man in the lab coat pauses as if Brian threw him off a practiced monologue and he needs a moment to remember the words. But it is only a few seconds until he resumes, “I will be frank with you.” He states, making eye contact with me, “A few months ago I was lying in bed and was awoken with a sudden realization. People are infected through the um…”

“Blue shit?” Liv offers.

“Ah, yes…for lack of a better name, the blue…. um shit…infects people and rewires their genetic coding. It creates some sort of mutant with alien genes, which I, for a long time, considered a permanent change. Especially since many victims die and then go through a metamorphosis into alien servants. But I realized that this blue shit plague, is exactly that; a plague. The infected are simply exposed to a virus and one of the strongest symptoms is the need to express emotion through elaborate musical numbers. Another symptom is compliance and obedience to these extra-terrestrial beings. The meteor itself did not cause people to break out in song, for the virus was carried in the meteor and the people of Hatchetfield were the ones to spread it.”

“Which does explain why even though the meteor is gone now, people are still infected.” Liv states with her arms crossed, leaning against a wall near my bed.

I don’t care about this man’s theories. I don’t care about why I am happy, I only care about the Mothership and musicals. 

“When I tried to tell people around the base, they didn’t understand what it meant that this was a virus.” I also did not understand. “The flu is a virus. The measles is a virus. Chickenpox is a virus.”

“Get to the point, Point-Dexter.”

“You know his name, Brian. Stop pretending you don’t.”

“Guys!” the lab coat man seems to be waiting patiently for the bickering to stop before continuing with his sad, little theory, “What do all of those viruses have in common?” 

I feel as though he is waiting for my answer, but even if I wanted to engage in conversation with this pitiful man, I am not exactly in a position to give responses with my mouth covered in tons of duct tape. He seems to realize this, for he continues.

“They all have a vaccination.”

Oh no. 

“A virus attacks when it is spread through people, and best spread to people who immune systems have been weakened, hence why many are near death before becoming infected.”

I have to get out. I have to get out. I have to ge-

“I have devoted all of my time in labs gathering chemicals and solvents to create my vaccination, which is tough feat seeing that most of the population is infected by this virus.”

Shit. Fuck. Motherfuck-

“Well, you did have a little help.” Liv says with a smile looking at the man that I assume is some sort of scientist or doctor. I just know I despise him.

“A little?!" Brian jumps in, "We were the o-“ 

“Either way, I started to receive people who had become infected, and tried administering them possible vaccinations. But none worked. Creating a vaccine for this disease has become difficult because how can you kill an infection that has rooted itself into your genetic coding? But then I realized the most important thing! The vaccine does not need to do both jobs of killing the infection and getting rid of the foreign genetic coding. No.” 

The more he explains, the more excited he seems to get. And the more he explains, the more I feel the need to rip his organs out.

“The vaccine will kill the infection and my latest creation, a capsule, will restore the old genetic coding as the new one is ripped away.” 

I do not like where this is going. I need to link to the hive somehow. This is a threat to the Mothership. I have to protect the Mothership.

“All right, I’ve had enough talking.” Brian leaps off the counter and grabs a syringe off the table and walks towards the others.

“Let’s do it.”


	3. Three

I don’t know what to do.

I have not had to think about what to do in six months. I have followed a routine of singing and dancing and obeying the Mothership. But the Mothership is telling me to run, and I am trying, but I’m still weak from whatever sedative they gave me, and I cannot get out of my ties.

I know I look like a wild animal, thrashing against the bed. I know this, because Liv and Brian are now holding me down, trying to keep me still. But my panic is rising more, now that the doctor or scientist or whatever, has his syringe and capsule out.

A vaccine to fix what doesn’t need to be fixed.

“Corey, he is freaking out.”

Liv looks pained by watching me as if she pities me. I don’t need her pity. Fuck her pity. She will see one day, she will know this is bigger than any one person. She will feel the love and devotion of the Mothership. They all will.

It’s inevitable.

“Take off the duct tape.” Corey orders as he grabs the syringe from his organized table.

“Do we have too? He’s going to start singing.” Brian complains.

“You’re the one who wanted to get this started. Okay, how is this going to work?” She asks Corey as Brian starts ripping off the pieces of duct tape applied to my mouth.

“Brian, you’re going to hold his mouth open for the capsule, but first we need to give him the vaccine."

_**“NO!”**_ The mothership starts to sing, using me as a vessel, ** _"YOU CANNOT STOP IT’S FLOW.THE WORLD TURNS. THE WORLD KNOWS.”_**

“What did I tell you?!” Brian yells over my singing.

_**“THE BATTLE WILL BE WON.”** _

“Hold him still!” Liv pushes against my thrashing and Corey inserts the syringe into my arm.

_**“NO FEAR. NO FUSS.”** _

I don’t feel anything.

It doesn’t work. Of course, it doesn’t. Nothing is stronger than th-JESUS CHRIST.

_**“THE APOTHEOSIS IS UPON US."**_ I bellow as my body reels in agony, so much agony.

“Okay, Brian, force his mouth open!” Corey exclaims as he pulls the syringe out of my arm.

My blood is on fire. It has to be, how else could I be sweating all of the water out of my body? My organs are grenades that are exploding. I’m dying. I’m dying. I’m dying.

Brian grips my jaw and opens it wide; even though I am trying to slam it shut.

The Mothership needs me. And I need the Mothership.

I feel Liv put the capsule in my mouth and I try to spit it out, but she is forcing water down my throat. Brian then shuts my mouth; not allowing me spit it out.

The pain is unbearable. Unbearable.

“Swallow! Godamn it!”

“Brian, he needs to swallow that capsule!”

“Oh, fuck it!”

Brian then opens my mouth, but before I can do anything, he puts his hand in my mouth and pushes the pill down my throat. I am now coughing.

But I’m not just coughing, I’m coughing up blue. Every part of my body is in pain. A death by a thousand cuts would be a mercy compared to this torture. I can’t help the blue shit rising up my throat and pouring out. I can’t even breathe. I just want to sing, but I can’t. Why can’t I sing?

“He is going to puke up the capsule!” Brian yells.

“No…no, it’s fine. It’s in his system now.”

Blue is everywhere. It is crawling up my throat and pouring out of my nose.

“Untie him! He is choking! He needs to lie sideways!” Corey yells in a panicked fashion as he starts to untie my hands.

Yes, untie me.

Brian pulls Corey’s hands away from my restraints, but Corey pushes him away.

“We can’t untie him! He is still infected!” Brian yells, trying to fight Corey. But Corey stands his ground.

“He is choking! He is going to die!”

Corey continues to untie my hands until I am free. Corey ushers me to my side as I continue to puke up everything connecting me to the Mothership. Everything I cherish and care about.

“Get Liam! Go!” Brian cries to Liv, who nods and then runs out of the room.

I am happy. Why are they trying to take this from me? I’m not crazy! I am more sane then I have ever been in my entire life. I push Corey away as I continue vomit my blue gunk.

_**“GET AWAY! IT’S INEVITABLE! IT’S INEV**_ itable….” I pause.

What am I doing? I hate singing.

A throbbing shot goes off in my head and it drops me to my knees. I grip my head as if my hands are the only thing stopping it from exploding into pieces. I stop puking the blue shit, but the gunshots in my head makes me want to bang it against a wall. Brian starts to reach out towards me.

But I don’t want him anywhere near me. I want the hive. I want the hive. I want t _ **he hive. I want the hive. I want the hive. I want the hive. I want the hive.**_

Wait, no…I…..

_**“AHHHHH**_ hhhhhh _ **HHH**!”_ I can’t help but scream out in agony.

“Oh my god!” someone else is yelling, or is it just me?

My body is tearing me apart. My brain is tearing me apart.

_**RUN** _

But….

_**THEY DON’T WANT YOU TO SING AND DANCE. THEY WANT TO TAKE AWAY WHO YOU ARE**_.

But that’s not who I am.

_**YES, IT IS PAUL.** _

Someone is lifting me up.

_**FIGHT** _

I push whoever is touching me, against a wall. I am holding him by his throat. I am holding Brian by his throat. I’m strangling him. I feel Corey trying to pry me off of him. And I feel Brian trying to tear my hands off his throat.

_**KILL HIM** _

“Wha-what?” I mutter. My head feels so cloudy. Why is my head cloudy?

**_THEY ARE DOING THIS TO YOU. THEY ARE TRYING TO HURT YOU. THEY ARE TRYING TO HURT US_ **

They are. They need to die. My grip is stronger on Brian’s neck as I break into a wide grin, and start to hum. He needs to die. They all need to die. They need to experience the apotheosis. They are doing this to me because they are unfulfilled. They don’t serve a purpose as I serve a purpose. I can make them happy. The Mothership can make them hap-

But it isn’t real.

_**NOW** _

What is happening?

I am freezing as uncertainty takes a hold of me.

The Mothership takes uncertainty away.

The Mothership takes freedom away.

“Stop!” Corey is yelling, still trying to pull me away.

And I do. I do pull away. Not because of Corey, but by a string being cut.

It’s like all the blood in my body had dried up, and now I am brittle. Nothing is connecting me to anything. All the voices in my head has been vacuumed. I feel empty.

I feel free.

I am being pushed back onto the bed and people are tying my hands up. I look up at people I don’t recognize. I look around the room. I then look at my white dress shirt that is covered with blue shit that just came from my mouth.

“What the fuck is this shit?” I mutter under my breath, before everything fades out and I close my eyes.


	4. Four

I hear dripping.

That is my first thought. Not that my entire body feels like I just ran a 15k. My first thought also isn’t that I am wearing some sort of hospital gown. Or that I’m tied to a bed frame. No, these are becoming after thoughts.

I’m just kind of focused on the dripping. But to be fair, the dripping is really annoying. 

I think it’s coming from the faucet, and I try to get up to investigate. But I soon remember I’m tied to the bed. 

Okay, now the after thoughts are sinking in. Shit.

Wait, a toilet is flushing. I pull the bonds on my wrists when the door starts to open. A guy comes out; I think I’m taller than him. I haven’t ever really been a fight, but I remember watching in a movie that you don’t put your thumb in your fist when you punch. I think the movie had Amy Adams. Or was it the girl from Wedding Crashers? I always get them mixed up. Either way, apparently that’s how you break your thumb, but for me to punch him, I’d have to ge-

Wait, he just flushed and he is already out of the bathroom. Did he not wash his hands? 

“About time you woke up, I owe Liam five bucks. I totally thought you were going to croak.” 

Yeah, I don’t know how to respond to that. 

The guy doesn’t seem to be infected, but what other circumstances would lead to me being tied up to a bed? Wait, I know him. How do I know him?  
My thoughts are interrupted as he starts getting closer to me.

“What do you want!? I’ll have you know that I have taken karate!” I shout in a tone that I highly doubt is intimidating.

And I took karate for about two weeks when I was six…..but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“Really? Was your sensei the one who taught you how to strangle people?” He asks as he sits in the chair near my bed, and puts his feet on a desk.

Strangle people? Okay, this guy is fucked up. I have never stang-

Holy shit.

I strangled him.

Memories of choking him with my hands flood into my mind. Why did I strangle him? Is he infected? Is he a dick? 

“Was I….” I gulp and look around the room. I look at my restraints. “Was I infected?”

The guy I had seemingly strangled narrows his eyes. But before he could say anything, a tall, dark haired woman walks into the room, and puts her hands on her hips.

“What are you doing, Brian? You were supposed to get Corey when he woke up.”

He does not take his eyes off me as he shrugs “Forgot.” 

He then lifts himself up from his chair, and walks out of the room. Well, it was more that he stormed out of the room with heavy stomping. The girl does not follow him though, instead she goes to the sink and turns the faucet completely off.

Thank God. 

“Is Emma here?” I ask at the same time as she asks “What is your name?”

“You’re awake!” 

A man suddenly walks into my room, beaming, like a child on Christmas.

“I’ve done your tests, Mr.….um, I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

The excited man looks at me expectantly; the heaviness of his stare makes me uncomfortable.

“Paul.” I answer, trying to keep the intense eye contact that seems to be happening. 

“Paul.” He repeats, and he takes a moment as if tasting the word in his mouth.

“Paul.” I respond awkwardly, “That’s it.”

He then seems to lose his shit as he just starts cackling.

“Is he okay?” I ask looking towards the girl in confusion, but she merely shrugs. She seems to be use to this kind of behavior.

It takes a moment for the man to pull himself together and stop laughing.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I am being unprofessional. It’s just….” He sits down in the chair that the annoyed guy was previously sitting in. “I ran the tests. I know the vaccine and capsule work. But…knowing and seeing are just different.” He starts to laugh again, “It works. It fucking works.”

“Okay, you’re scaring him, Corey.” The girl states correctly, and walks towards the bed.

“Hello, Paul. I’m Liv.”

Liv….Liv…I know her too. She comforted some boy, while I watched, pinned to the ground.

She comforted a boy I was trying to kill.

Oh my god. I was one of them. 

“Corey, he doesn’t look too good.”

Corey lifted his hand to my forehead “Are you all right?” 

“I-I…I’m going puke.”

Corey seems concerned by this information. He unties one of my hands, but not the other which allows me some room to move to my side. Liv hands me a trashcan and it just starts coming out. 

I tried to kill some kid. But that is only one of the many shitty things I have done. I have been living in a musical for months. I have been helping the enemy. What would Emma think?

Emma.

I tried to kill Emma.

I tried to make her into a mindless slave.

A dam is cracking, and all of my memories are flowing back to me. All the things I did.

“Nausea must be one of the side effects.” Corey notes.

I want to ask about Emma, but I don’t even know where I am.

“Where am I?” I ask with my head still in the trash can.

“Well, we are a-“

Corey starts to explain, but Liv suddenly walks over to Corey and interrupts.

“Corey.” She says in a warning, her gaze at Corey screams: Watch it.

“He’s not one of them. I’ve done all the necessary tests, his genetic coding is norm-“

“I understand that, but this is something that needs to be handled by Liam. And,” She looks over to me, “He is obviously overwhelmed.”

Overwhelmed feels like such a simple word to explain my feelings in this moment. 

I feel disgust. I feel horror. I feel guilt. I feel so much guilt.

“I don’t need to know everything, but is there an Emma here?” I ask. My ears pick up that my voice sounds strained and scratchy. “Please, it’s important.”

Liv tilts her head and give me a look of confusion.

“What is her last name?”

Her last name?

I scramble through my head to find it, but I don’t think she ever told me. And I don’t think I ever asked. I wish I did. I wish I could. 

“I-I don’t know.” I state. 

I can’t decipher the look on Liv’s face. Is it sympathy? Pity?

“I don’t know any Emma.” She tells me, “But I’ll ask around.”

“Please.” 

I’m desperate. I have to apologize. None of this should have happened. I exploded the meteor, so this nightmare would end. Not so I could become a part of it.

Liv nods lightly and then exits out of the room, sharing a quick look with Corey before doing so. 

“Now,” Corey says a few seconds after Liv’s departure, “I have a million questions, but I do feel that Liv is right about one thing. You are overwhelmed. Get some sleep. Relax. And remember,” Corey puts his hand on my shoulder. I think he is trying to make me feel comfortable, but I would feel a lot more comfortable if he was not doing that. “You are safe.”

He then grabs a clipboard from a desk, and leaves.

He told me I'm safe.

I don’t think I deserve to be safe. 

Bill and his daughter should be given this second chance, not me. Charlotte, who had never hurt a soul before the meteor, deserves to be here. Even Ted, a total scumbag, deserves to be here more than I do. 

Emma should be here too. If this place is safe, this is the place where she should be. 

I crossed a line I made in the sand. A line I never thought I would cross. But I did, and now I don’t know what I can do. I’m too far past to go back, but I also can never bring myself to move forwards.

I’m stuck.


	5. Five

I have never really minded being alone. 

I’ve always thought I’m my best self when people aren’t near me. But while my social interactions with these survivors have been, at best, awkward, I prefer it than being alone. 

These past few days, I spend my hours alone in my room going through everything I regret, and everything I should have done differently. I keep trying not to think about my time being in the Hive, but that is all Corey wants to talk about. 

“Could you feel emotions while infected?”

“Was the destruction of the meteor painful to the Hive?”

“Are people in the Hive able to speak to each other telepathically?”

It is question after question with Corey. I know he is just eager to gather more information about how to kill this disease. But every time I see him, it is an interrogation. And if I’m being honest, Corey’s interrogations drain a lot out of me. 

He only really asks about the Hell that has been the past six months. And I do understand that my life before this was quite boring, but I would prefer to talk about it than my time as an alien slave. 

I much rather enjoy Liv’s company, she asks a lot less questions.

Our conversations mostly consist of her saying “Hello, Paul.” and me responding with “Hello, Liv.” Then she would sometimes pull out some raggedy, old book and read in my room for about an hour. Maybe people would consider that behavior rude, but I didn’t really. It is sort of ideal, having company and not being alone, but minus the small talk. She also sometimes brings a book for me to read, but I go through those fast, I do not have a lot else to do. 

The books she brings me are, well, quite boring. But I know beggars can’t be choosers, and I also can tell that she really likes these books. She has this intense look on her face whenever she is reading, always invested.

She also followed through on looking for Emma, but it did not take long for Liv to find out that there is no Emma here, nor has there ever been. Leaving me with two questions:

Where is she?

And where is here?

Anytime I try to get answers about where I am. Liv always shuts it down. 

I understand why she doesn’t trust me with a lot of information yet. It has only been a week since I was severed from the Hive. I wouldn’t trust me either. But being locked in this tiny room is making me restless. 

I am no longer tied to the bed, and Corey and Liv visit often. But I can’t help but feel like a prisoner in a cell. 

Liv keeps telling me I will get some answers when Liam comes, but I’m now wondering if this Liam will ever come. The only thing entertaining me these past few days are the books Liv brings and a pack of cards. And while I am now a gifted shuffler, a pack of cards does little to distract me from the constant anxiety that races through my body. 

“Hello, Paul.” 

I didn’t even notice or hear the door opening, but there was Liv walking toward me as I sit in bed, with my back against the bed frame. 

“Wow, you’ve really bent those cards.” Liv states as she gives a pitiful look to the stack of cards in my hands.

“Yeah, it’s just from the shuffling.” 

“That’s not supposed to happen when you shuffle cards, Paul.”

Huh. I guess I’m not a gifted shuffler after all.

Well, fuck my life.

“Alright,” she sighs, “Follow me, Paul.” 

This causes me to pause and widen my eyes.

“Like out of the room?” I ask.

“No, into the bathroom.” She remarks sarcastically, “Come on, Paul.”

She motions her hand to have me follow her, and it takes me a moment for her words to sink in. But once the fact that I get to leave this small, dank room registers in my brain, I jump from the bed. And rush to follow her out my room and down a hallway full of doors. Doors to rooms that I bet are identical to mine. 

We then go down a set of stairs that leads to different floors, and they all seem to look the same. The building seems like a hospital of sorts, but less clinical. By the last floor, we are in a lobby surrounded with dark colored couches, and a mahogany front desk with random people milling around. Mostly bodies walking place to place with a purpose, but some of the people are just lying on the couches, not really doing much of anything.

I want to take a moment to take in my surroundings, but Liv is walking forwards, seemingly with no intention of stopping anytime soon. I am having a hard time keeping up with her brisk pace. 

She leads me out of some double doors, and suddenly I am outside. The brightness of the sun causes me to falter; I have only had artificial light for the past few days. They should really install some windows in those rooms. It really is no-

Oh my.

I had been expecting tents that were falling apart, but my eyes become saucers when I see the multitude of buildings made from brick, some built on wood. My boots walk through the soft grass, and then step on a paved road where some jeeps and trucks seem to be parked. But that is not what amazes me, it’s the amount of people that do.

Until now, I had thought the people in my building were the majority of these survivors, but I have been mistaken. Even more people are milling around outside; talking to each other, jogging through the grass, eating sandwiches on the ground. I could go on.

The last six months, I had only heard rumors of these survivors. They were tired people hiding out in abandoned buildings with scarce numbers and resources. And while I doubt these people are living in luxury, this is definitely not the grim environment that I believed it to be.

“What is this place?” I ask Liv, speeding up to keep up with her. 

“Liam will explain.”

She does not look towards me, but only forwards. 

As we weave through the camp, I start to notice a lot of stares in my direction. And I’m reluctant to believe these stares are for Liv. I start to fiddle with my hands out of nerves. As we walk, I start to see that the edges of this camp, yards away, is a wall made of metal standing about twelve feet tall. I think it is surrounding the whole camp. 

I almost trip when Liv suddenly stops in front of one of the buildings. Nothing special separates it from the others, but I guess this is our destination. 

“Paul,” she then turns to me, “Walk in and take a seat.”

“What about you?” I ask, confused. 

“I’ve got a handful of things to do.” I think I’m not hiding my nerves very well, because she decides to add, “You have nothing to worry about.” 

Despite saying how busy she was, she does not leave. I think she is waiting for me to go inside, before doing so. So, I take a deep breath, and push through the doors. 

I look around as I walk inside. The first thing that catches my eye is the large desk in the center of the room, and the man sitting at it. He is deep into his papers, and does not even look up as I walk in. But I know he hears me, because he says “Sit down, Paul.”

I walk over to one of the chairs near the desk, and once I do, the man looks up from his papers and makes direct eye contact.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, as he leans back in his chair.

I don’t really know what to say. I figure “Oh, miserable. My friends are mindless alien zombies and I betrayed the one person I wanted to protect” will not go over well. So I decide to go with the best thing to say in a situation. 

“Okay.”

The man, who I assume is Liam, looks like he is in his early 40’s. Which makes me feel a little better, because Henry and Liv look like they just finished high school, and I was scared I had entered some YA novel where all grown-ups are either dead or evil.

“I can only conclude, Paul, that these past few days have been a whirlwind.”

He stops talking. Oh, he wants me to respond.

“Okay.”

“Paul, my name is Liam Langford.” He states and crosses him arms, “Before the apocalypse, I was a social studies teacher at Hatchetfield High, much to my parent’s disapproval. I lived in a military family, you see, so the fact that I never enlisted or had any desire to, it made life complicated. But after being raised on a military training camp, all I wanted was to leave. Funny, how life works. The one place I ran away from my whole life became the place I ran to the moment crisis hit.”

“Is this what this place is? A military training camp?”

“It was a military training camp, now it is home to the uninfected. During the spread of the infection, I got away from Hatchetfield and drove all the way here. But it was abandoned without a soul inside, least it was by the time I got here. So I stayed here for a couple of days, waiting out the epidemic that seemed to be going around, but it soon became clear this wasn’t something you could just wait out. I started looking for other survivors and when I did, I brought them here. Numbers increased and we built walls. We are our own community, and you are now part of it, Paul.”

Liam stops and rises from his seat, and then holds out his hand.

“Welcome to Summer Home.”


	6. Six

_“Paul?”_

_“Paul, you’re scaring me”_

_“You’re not Paul! You’re one of them!”_

_I am one of them. Emma looks so scared._

_She is screaming so loud. I want her to stop screaming, but I can’t stop singing._

_Everything is so loud._

_“Paul, you’re scaring me!”_

I wake with a start.

My heart is beating so loud, I can hear it in my ears.

Breathe seems scarce and my hands start to fidget.

It feels hot. Is it hot in here?

My sweat is all over the bed sheets and is stained through my T-shirt and sweatpants.

I feel gross. I feel awful.

I have been having the same nightmares every night for the past month. Well, they aren’t the same every time. Some nights, I dream about Emma’s horrified sobs, as I sing so much that blood comes out of my mouth. Sometimes I dream about the crazed smiles of the infected, but as I run away, I am stopped by a mirror, and see my own crazed smile staring back at me. But in my worst dreams, Emma has her own crazed smile.

She did not escape, and I have to look at her fake smile and listen to her cheery songs in perfect pitch.

I hate it.

I keep trying to push down the nightmares. Push down all of the constant thoughts and guilt. But they keep rising up, like bile in my throat.

I need a shower.

God, I feel gross.

After meeting Liam, I was moved out of the hospital building, and into one of the housing buildings. My room does not look much different than the one I stayed in during recovery, but at least it is my own.

But despite my change of residence, Corey still comes by about every day with a new set of questions. Luckily at some point though, Liv will come by and take Corey away from his duties of interrogation. I thought after a month, he would run out of questions to ask, but like most of the time, I was proven wrong.

Summer Home has not brought anymore infected people to cure, or at least that I know of. I tried to talk to Corey about Bill and his daughter, Alice, and in hopes that he could help them. But it was made clear to me by Corey, that he had no say on who gets brought back from these missions.

I keep trying to get a meeting with Liam about it, but I can never get a hold of him. He is either busy with something else or simply not in mood.

I think he is tired of my pestering, but I’m also tired of feeling useless. So…..quite a dilemma we’re both in.

I thought the restlessness would die away after moving out of the hospital, but I was wrong. Again.

I’m so tired of sitting on my hands. I just want to help somebody.

Anybody.

I think the people here are scared of me.

Scratch that. I know they are scared of me.

It’s the way that they are just a little too nice whenever I’m nearby. Most interactions feel like the other person has a gun to their head. Everyone becomes tense when I’m around. It’s like they can’t relax until I leave the room. But while that is upsetting, at least they are trying.

For the most part, Summer Home has been a welcoming crowd.

Well, minus….Brian.

Apparently, when you strangle people, they tend to not like you afterwards.

He does not really talk to me per say, but more of that he glares at me like he is planning my death. And I might be paranoid, but I think he is.

Once I dry off from my shower, I throw on some sweat pants and a dark, faded T-shirt. My wardrobe is very different from my old one, but I can’t imagine trying to navigate through the camp in a business suit.

I am startled by sudden knocking from my door, but I find myself even more startled when I open the door.

“Follow me, music man.” Brian grimaces, “You’re being summoned.” He mutters, not wasting a second leaving the doorway.

Only Liv and Corey visit me, so Brian popping over and telling me to follow him. Well, it is a bit odd. But I follow, because what the fuck else am I supposed to do?

Like Liv, Brian has the pace of a mom speed walking through the suburbs. I think everyone at Summer Home has that attitude though. No one takes their time; there is always something to do. And there is always someplace to go.

Brian does not talk to me as we leave the housing building, and I am getting the vibe that he is not really in the mood to speak with me. Now or ever.

We weave through camp, all the way to Liam’s office. And when we enter, there are already about twenty people inside. Everyone is talking amongst themselves, while Liam sits at his desk, looking around the room.

I spot Liv and Corey, they're standing in the corner of the room, conferring with each other. I start to walk over to them, but am interrupted when Liam stands and a hush falls over the room.

“All right.” Liam sighs, “I believe most of you have put together what this meeting is about.”

Um………

“We are going back into Clivesdale and I am going to have to send people. We will be taking 3 jeeps. Liv, Brian, Paul, and I are going for sure. But that leaves about five more spots”

Did he just say Paul? Is there another Paul?

Paul is a common name.

Am I going?

Brian seems confused by this statement as well, because he speaks up with “Paul? Why are we bringing Paul? He can’t shoot a gun and he’s slow. He’s useless.”

Brian brings up fair points, but I do feel like nicer words could have been used.

“You are such a dick, Brian.” Liv scolds.

Liam narrows his eyes at Brian, “Paul will receive some basic training before we leave Saturday. It will be useful to bring him along. Paul use to think like these aliens, and you should always bring someone who can think like the enemy. So, that’s what I’m doing”

Brian frowns and gives me an annoyed look. I don’t know why he is channeling his annoyance at me and not Liam, but I’m not going to ask questions.

Liam turns his gaze away from Brian, and moves it around the room, “Who else is willing to come for Saturday? We will need to load the cars by six thirty and be ready to go by seven. I am ho-“

Liam continues his speech, but I don’t follow as Liv appears by my side.

She does not seem shocked by the news that I am coming with them.

“Did you know?” I ask.

“I had my suspicions. It makes sense to bring you along.” She pauses, “Do you not want to go?” she questions, giving me a troubled look.

“No,” I state, “Just surprised.”

I don’t feel scared to go.

Is it weird that shocks me?

Would I have been scared by this before the apocalypse? I don’t know what was, and is normal for me anymore.

I think some part of me feels anxious, but my need to do something is outweighing that anxiety.

I wonder what Emma would say if she was here. Actually, I think I do have an idea what she would say.

Fuck it. Let’s go.


	7. Seven

I look like I’m going to a funeral.

Actually, that’s not true.

My old suits, the ones I use to wear before life became a shit show, those made me look like I was going to a funeral. But being dressed in a black sweat shirt, black pants, and black sneakers, well, I’m only now aware of the lack of color in my wardrobe.

I am in the backseat of a jeep wrangler, currently being driven by Brian. I am not in the passenger seat, Liv is, much to her chagrin. But despite Liv’s obvious annoyance with Brian’s presence, she seems to be ignoring him quite well. 

She has her head stuck in a battered book, and it has been stuck there since the car ride began. 

Liv, for the past few days, was in charge of giving me basic training to prepare for today. And while she is a great teacher, I don’t think I’ve been a very promising student. 

My aim is abysmal, and I have little to zero upper body strength. The only reason I am being brought along is because of my experience with the Hive mind, and it is nothing short of obvious. Liv and Brian look like actors in an action movie, while I look like the lanky scientist who gets killed in the first thirty minutes. 

“We’ve been driving in silence for an hour. I’m so fucking bored.” Brian complains, knocking his head against his seat.

Liv sighs, but does not look up from her book, “We’re almost there, Brian. Entertain yourself, it’s not my job.” 

Liv is one of the nicest people I have ever met, but she is nothing short of cold when it comes to Brian. But granted, I’m not exactly president of his fan club either. 

There is no one in the seat next to me in the back, but each car can only have three people. The two jeeps in front of us each have one seat reserved for supplies, while our jeep has the extra room for the next test subject. It’s room for the next member of the Hive who is destined to receive the vaccine. 

Liam thought it best to put the infected person in my car, seeing as, in his own words, “the alien hive thing is in the area of your expertise, Paul.” I think, he thought, giving me some responsibility would make me feel better, but it didn’t.

I’m very good at messing things up. I’m so good, it’s kind of talent, actually. 

My lack of ambition, before this whole ordeal, truly stemmed from my lack of ability or talent. 

Liam has this mission completely planned out, and he expects nothing less than perfect execution. 

Brian and two people in Liam’s car, are in charge of grabbing supplies, while the three people in car two, have the job of distracting the Hive and keeping them busy. Leaving only me, Liam, and Liv as we grab a member of the Hive, knock them out, and give Corey a new lab rat.

Maybe this new person will enjoy Corey’s constant surveys. 

Going through Clivesdale is going to be difficult, though.

When you are part of the Hive, you are well aware of who is infected and who is not. Being infected is like being on the same frequency with everyone else who shares your disease. There is no fighting amongst the hive, or hatred, or even sadness. But there is also no happiness.

The Hive feeds you numbness and tells you it is happiness. But only after getting out, you realize how starving you are. 

I desperately want to help Bill, but Liam won’t hear it. He makes it clear that he cannot pick who they take. It is hard enough to grab someone from the Hive, but to try to grab a specific person is impossible.

I don’t know if I can accept that.

Maybe for now, but I will find a way to help Bill. I owe it to him.

“We’re here.” Liv declares, finally looking up from her book. 

I honestly have no idea how she was able to read during the entire car ride, I always get nauseous when I try.

“Fucking finally.” 

Brian then puts the car in park and busts open the Jeep door, once he turns the car off. He is not in a good mood, but when is he ever? 

I get out of the car and walk with Liv to the others who have already formed a circle. We are parked in the parking lot of some abandoned bathroom stop, just outside of the city. 

Liam does not seem nervous. Maybe he does this kind of stuff so much; it is only a routine now. Not a life or death situation. 

“All right, it’s go time. Pam, Hector, and Andy, I’m going to need you guys to drive around for twenty minutes and make sure you have their undivided attention.” Liam orders.

“Got it.” Pam nods, and the others follow her back into the jeep. 

“Okay, Brian lead the others, now.” He says somberly, “We have no time to waste.”

Brian does not say anything, but simply nods and the rest follow, leaving only Liv, Liam, and me. 

“Are you ready, Liv? Paul?” Liam asks with intensity that I am unable to match. 

Liv says “Yes.” At the same time as I say “Sure.”

I don’t think Liam likes my answer, I think he expects a certain degree of confidence from me. And I’m trying to appear confident. I want to seem cool and collected, but I don’t think I am succeeding. 

We all walk back to the last car, and waste no time getting the car started, zooming out of the parking lot. We have very little time to find a target, and rush back to the parking lot to meet up with everyone again. The plan is to sneak into Hammock Cream, an ice cream place that is always abandoned when the Hive gathers their members to go fight off distractions. 

The next part is the hard part. Waiting.

We have to hide and wait for one of the Hive members to inspect the place for intruders, and then make our move. 

I remember when it happened to me. 

I remember holding the gun against that poor boy. He was scared and shaking, but I wasn’t. I was ready. No hesitation.

It wasn’t me, yet it was. 

It was a twisted version of myself that I never thought I could be, but I was. It was a version of me I hate more than anything. I will die before I ever become that again. 

I try to shush my mind, but the chaos in my head is so loud.

I’m tired of all these memories.

A loud shot breaks through my train of thought. 

Okay. That wasn’t in my head.

That was a gunshot.

“What the fuck?” Liv asks, clearly as confused as I am.

The car starts to slow.

“Liam?”

Liam doesn’t know what to do. I can see it on his face. He is thinking.

He is panicking. 

Another gunshot pierces the air and the car starts to slow even more, until it is at a full stop.

The gunshots were aimed at our tires, and our shooter had good aim.

“What do we do?” I ask.

Neither Liv nor Liam answer. Both trying to think, knowing they don't have a lot of time to do so.

“Hold onto your gun, Paul.” Liv tells me.

That sounds like a plan. 

I clutch the gun strapped to my side, but it doesn’t give me any sense of security. 

A figure with a black ski mask runs in front of our stopped car, with their rifle pointing through the windshield at us. Suddenly, I look to my side and see someone just outside of where I am sitting, with a gun pointed at my window. 

At me.

Okay.

There are three people wearing ski masks covering their faces, surrounding the car with guns on each of us, not counting the figure standing in front of the car. Based on the figure’s tall build, he seems to be a man. He is dressed in black from head to toe.

We are almost wearing identical outfits, well, this is embarrassing. 

“Leave the guns in the car.” The man in dark demands loudly, standing straight like a board.

When no one in our car moves, he clutches his gun tighter in annoyance, “Now.”

Liam looks down at his gun, and then sighs out of exasperation. But I find myself surprised when he drops his gun, and turns to look at Liv and me.

“Drop the guns, and follow my lead.”

Liv nods slowly and drops her weapon, reluctantly. I follow her suit, and open my door to get out of the vehicle.

When I get out of the car, the man in black that was standing in front of the car moves to frisk Liam for weapons, and once he finishes, he walks to Liv to do the same. I simply stand, watching, trying to not noticeably sweat everything out of my body.

These people, while threatening, do not seem infected. No music is playing, and not one person is even doing anything close to humming. 

“We are not infected.” Liam states, clearly reaching the same conclusion I have. 

None of the people in the ski masks say anything. 

The tall man finishes frisking an irritated Liv, and then moves onto me. I don’t really know where to look as he starts frisking. I’m aware I should be more scared than awkward, but to be fair, this feels very awkward. 

When he finishes, he looks me in the eye, and then walks away without a word. 

Out of nowhere, another person also dressed like the other gunmen, comes up to the car.

“Who are they?”

It’s a woman’s voice.

She is asking this to the tall man who just finished frisking us. He is not facing us, or his men who have their guns in our faces.

“I don’t know.” He states quietly, but everything else is so silent, I can hear his words clearly. “Where are the others?”

“They’re coming. They refused to do anything but walk back to the cottage. Practically, told me to fuck myself.” She states as she stands in front of them.

“Are you survivors?” Liam questions, “Because we are, and we can help you.”

The man swivels his head to Liam, “Did I ask?”

Liam remains silent, clearly not liking the disrespect he is receiving from the man in front of him. 

“All right,” the man sighs, “It is clear, you are not singing zombies, but none the less, we need your car. No hard feelings.”

Two more people in similar dress code come into our view from the direction the woman had come from. 

“Excuse me?” Liv asks, raising her voice.

Both of the newcomers go to stand beside the woman, but the body standing on her left looks around, until their eyes land in my direction.

“We can help you!”

They’re staring at me.

“It’s nothing personal, sweetheart.” The man, probably their leader, states, crossing his arms.

The girl on the left, I’m assuming is a girl, stiffens like a board.

“Bullshit!” Liv yells.

The girl is raising her gun.

“Survivors should help each other.” Liam says in a more calm tone that juxtapositions Liv’s anger.

“You aren’t fucking survivors.” The girl on the left states, coldly.

I freeze.

Breathe stops in my body, and the world falters out of its axis.

“What are you talking about?” Liv asks, “Do you hear a melody anywhere?”

The girl does not look at Liv as she walks towards me, and I don’t expect her too. 

I can barely bring myself to stand still, much less keep her gaze as she marches towards me, and takes off her black ski mask. 

She looks so upset.

But she isn’t crying, I think she is done with tears.

“Emma…” I try to say, but I can barely choke out the words.

I don’t know what to say.

But she does.

“You killed him.”

She lifts her gun.

I should fight. I should be upset.

But I’m not.

This fate, the one I keep escaping.

It’s inevitable.


	8. Eight

I close my eyes and wait.

I wait for the loud bang that comes from a gun, and sounds like a firework going off.

I wait for my heart to stop beating and for my lungs to stop breathing.

But it never comes.

“What the fuck?”

I open my eyes.

The man dressed in black, the one I assume is their leader, grabs Emma by her arm and pulls away the gun that was pointed at my face.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She shouts at the leader, who is dragging her away from me.

“What the fuck are you doing, Perkins?” He asks, clearly irritated with Emma.

Liv’s gunman seems distracted by the discourse taking place, as Liv starts inching closer to my side. Liam is not doing the same; he is watching Emma with a confused look on his face.

But I’m not thinking about that. I’m only thinking about Emma. I want to apologize. I want to explain. But the first thing to come to mind for an apology is “Emma, I’m sorry.”

_Emma, I’m sorry._

_Emma, I’m sorry you lost._

No, I can’t say that. What can I possibly say?

“They aren’t human.” Emma argues, and then looks at me and points, “He is not human.”

I want to say something, but all words die in my mouth. I feel frozen; I can’t do anything but watch.

Seeing Emma almost doesn’t feel real. Nothing about this moment feels solid. I would not be surprised, if in a few minutes, I wake up in bed, and realize this is all a dream.

It has been seven months since I have seen Emma. I have wanted to see her again for the longest time, but I don’t think any part of me really believed I would.

“He is one of them.” Emma tries to walk over to me, but Liv stands in front of me.

“He is not one of them.” Liv tells an exhausted looking Emma, “We are not infected.” She then looks to the leader who still has his ski mask on.

Liv’s gunman now notices that Liv was distancing herself from her spot, and walks towards her angrily, with his gun pointing even closer at her head.

“Yes, he is.” Emma insists and grabs the leader's arm, “I knew him. He used to be someone named Paul, but now he is not. That thing…” Emma points at me again, “killed him, and now I’m going to kill it.”

“He is not infected!” Liv yells.

“I saw it with my own eyes.” Emma states desperately to the leader, “They are lying, Terrence.”

Apparently the leader’s name is Terrence. Instead of absorbing all of this new information, my thoughts are only racing on what to do now. What to say.

I want Emma to stop looking at me like a monster, but I don’t know if that is what I deserve.

“Paul is not infected.” Liam states, finally jumping in on the conversation, “At my camp, we have found a solution for the infected. That is what we are supposed to be doing now, grabbing the infected for the cure.”

Terrence does not look convinced, but he does not interrupt Liam.

“We don’t need to fight, we can help each other. But the only way to do that is by sitting down and having a conversation. Not….” Liam gestures at the gunmen, “This.”

“Fuck conversation!” Emma shouts in Liam's direction.

“You need to calm down, Perkins.” Terrence scolds, but Emma is not a child who let’s herself be scolded.

“I need to do jack shit.” She says as she tries to grab her gun back from Terrence, but his grip on it is unrelenting.

“No, it’s true, he is not infected.” Liv tries to reason with Emma, who is at the end of her wits.

Emma turns her head at Liv, “Prove it.”

Emma then turns to look at me, and abandons trying to get the gun from Terrence. “Prove it.” she repeats, looking me dead in the eye. I am pressing my thumb against my opposing hand nervously. I break eye contact from Emma and look at the faces around me.

Liam is speaking to Terrence, trying to convince him of everyone’s innocence. Liv is looking at her gunman, clearly trying to think about a way to overpower him and escape. But everyone else is staring at me, waiting for my defense. Emma is staring at me, expectantly, ready for me to prove all of her doubts.

“I…I um…” I stutter.

I feel sweat gathering at my forehead.

“See, he is not singing.” Liv implores to Emma, still looking at me with disbelief.

“Yeah, look what not singing is doing to him. He’s paler than a ghost. I think pretending to be human is going to make him puke.” Emma bites out the words.

I think I am about to puke.

“He can barely hold it in.” Emma sounds so disgusted.

She is so sure I’m the monster under the bed.

“Emma…” I say, trying to grab hold of my thoughts and say something. Anything.

“What?” Reluctant tears are pooling in her eyes, and she angrily tries to wipe them away from existence.

I want to help her. All I have ever wanted is to help her.

I need to say something.

“You look so tired.”

I don’t know why that is what I choose to say, it just sort of comes out.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t mean it like that, well, I do. What I mean is….I am sorry you are exhausted. Because I can tell you are.”

I’m staring at the ground at this point. I can’t bring myself to look at her.

I’m such a coward.

“And I’m sorry that you are so upset, because I did that, and Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry.”

Am I crying? Worst of all, am I ugly crying? I can’t seem to stop.

I also can’t seem to stop talking.

“This is not what I wanted.”

My hands cradle my head.

I can’t believe I’m breaking down in front of all these people. I want it to stop.

I want it all to stop.

“I don’t know what to do, Emma. Tell me what to do.” My voice cracks, “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. If you want me gone, I’ll leave. If you want me to grovel on my knees until they bleed, I’ll bleed. And if you want a bullet through my head, shoot.”

I don’t hear Emma respond, but I still can’t lift my head from my hands.

“I’ve gone too far, Emma. It’s too much. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I wish everything was different.

“I don’t know what to do.”

I am barely getting these words out through sobs.

My dad told me at a young age that only a boy cries, while a man just accepts. But I think I’m crying because I am accepting. Only in this moment, am I truly accepting what has happened.

There is no going back.

I will never have a normal, boring day at the office again. Nor will I ever just lounge on the couch watching gameshows on a Saturday or Sunday. I will probably never see old acquaintances and college friends again. And I will never be able to walk down the street without ever having to worry about watching my back.

There are aliens and they have taken everything my life use to be.

I was one of them. I became everything I hate. I have hurt people I care about, and people I don’t. Nothing I do can ever change that.

Nothing.

“Paul.”

I think someone says my name.

Is it Emma?

I want Emma to be okay. What has she been doing the past seven months? Has she been okay? Will she ever be able to trust anyone again, after what I did?

I’ve done too much.

“Paul, look at me.”

I feel hands gently hover over mine, still cradling my face.

Emma is in front of me, trying to get me to meet her eyes.

I do.

“Breathe.” She tells me.

I don’t realize I’m not breathing until now. My heart is beating faster and faster, and I don’t know if I can calm it down. But I do start breathing in and out slowly.

Emma’s face is so close to mine, and I continue looking at her eyes. Her brown eyes are wide.

Her hands no longer are hovering over my hands, but gripping them. She pulls them away from my face.

“I’m no-“ I can’t finish my sentence before a sob comes out of my mouth, and interrupts me.

“I know.” Emma nods.

She then wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly.

I am shocked, but I do the same and hold her as tightly as she is holding me.

“I believe you.” She says softly,“I believe you.”


	9. Nine

I never like to be the one to break a silence. And this is no exception.

No one has talked the entire car ride back to the abandoned bathroom stop.

After my melt down, the one I really regret having in front of multiple people, Terrence agreed to talk to Liam about Summer Home. But Terrence decided he would only do this at his safe quarters, which Emma told me is just a large cabin in the woods. So it’s Liv and I’s job to be the ones to tell Brian about the mission, or the lack of one due to the fact that we are meeting with a bunch of people who tried to kill us.

Well, not kill us, just take our jeep and abandon us in the woods.

I don’t know how after shooting both our front tires, they would have been able to take the jeep. I mean, luckily we carry extra tires in the jeep, but I really want to know what the plan was. I didn’t ask Terrence because I honestly feel like he is not the type of person who enjoys curiosity.

Liv is sitting in the driver’s seat, while the man who, twenty minutes ago had a gun on Liv, is sitting in the passenger seat next to her. Terence said he only wanted some of his people to go with us because of safety issues, but I’m pretty sure it is also because he trusts as far as he can throw us.

But the fourth person in the car is Emma, so I’m not going to complain.

Emma and I are not touching, quite the opposite actually. Both of us are sitting on the farthest side from each other, staring out of our separate car windows. Sometimes I do sneak looks at her when she isn’t looking, and I’m pretty sure she is doing the same. I don’t think either of us ever thought we would ever see each other again.

And I don’t think either of us have any clue on what to do next.

I look away from the window and notice how tight Liv is clutching the wheel.

I have really gotten to know Liv over this past month, so I can now tell when she likes something, and when she doesn’t. And I’m pretty sure she hates this.

I think she hates sitting next to someone who shoved a gun in her face. She probably hates that she is left with the responsibility of giving news to Brian that he obviously, isn’t going to take well. And I know she hates that we didn’t get to do our mission.

“So….” Emma breaks the silence, and I whip my head around to look at her. “What is this ‘Summer Home’ like?” She asks.

I am about to respond, but Liv beats me too it.

“We are not allowed to discuss it without approval from Liam.”

Cue another awkward silence.

“Oh, we wouldn’t want to upset Liam, would we?” mocks the guy sitting up front with Liv. I was told his name, but I have already forgotten. I think its Roger. I know it starts with an R.

“Yeah, okay.” Emma says while crossing her arms.

He doesn’t look like a Roger. He sort of looks like a Brian, but maybe I only think that because he is kind of a dick, and Brian is a dick as well. This is bothering me.

When I see that Emma is looking at me, I try to mouth _what is his name?_

She just scrunches her nose in confusion and mouths back _what?_

“How did you two meet?” Liv asks, looking out onto the road.

Well, I was hopelessly in love with her and went into Beanies every day to pine after her. Then a musical apocalypse happened, we got to know each other, almost kissed, but then I tried to kill her, and that was kind of the end of our relationship.

“Um……she worked at a coffee shop I liked.” I tell Liv.

“I don’t know if it was the coffee you liked.” Emma states, raising her eyebrows.

Well, okay.

“Well, you know,” I stumble, “coffee is very delicious and universally enjoyed.” I defend, my face as red as a tomato.

“Our coffee was shit.” Emma deadpans, clearly not prideful of her time as a barista.

“Yes, but it gave it character.”

Emma starts laughing and it warms every part of my body.

“Coffee shouldn’t have fucking character.”

“Yeah, you’re right, but I had to keep coming back for those pastries.”

“You know what? That’s fair. No one else made them like we did.” Emma says with a smile.

God, I love that smile.

“Inedible? Yes, no one else did.”

“We’re almost here.” interrupts Liv.

I look out my window to see she is right.

We pull into the parking lot of the bathroom stop, and the other cars are already there, waiting. Everyone from our mission is standing outside of their cars, watching us pull in. I can see Brian standing there, leaning against one of the cars, looking ready to pick a fight.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Emma asks.

Liv puts the car in park, and then sighs, “I wish I knew.”

I open the car door and walk towards a scowling Brian, and the rest of the group.

“What the fuck happened?” he directs at Liv, and then looks past her shoulder at Emma and the guy from her camp, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Emma repeats back at him.

I start to move closer to Emma, but I don’t notice until I am already just a few inches away from her. It is hard to not gravitate towards her, she is like a magnet.

“Listen Brian, we ran into some survivors, Liam is talking to them right now.” Liv tells him, and he moves his furious gaze away from Emma and back on Liv.

“What?” he yells, “Are you telling me that you guys ditched the mission we have been planning for a month to chit chat.”

“It was an emergency.” She reasons, “It just came up.”

“Birthdays just come up.” Brian grits out, “Not cancelling missions that are essential for survival.”

Liv is about to respond, but she stops when Brian simply walks away from her. He stomps all the way towards a trashcan and angrily kicks it over.

“What a dick.” Emma turns and murmurs to me, “Is he always like this?”

“Um….a little bit. Yeah.” I whisper back as Liv rubs her eyes. Not because she is crying, but out of exhaustion and frustration.

She turns to me, “Get back into the car. I’m going to deal with Brian.”

I follow her instructions and I get back inside the car, with Emma and the guy, whose name I know starts with an R, following me. When the guy gets back into the jeep’s passenger set, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He then starts smoking inside the car, causing smoke to gather inside.

“Jesus, roll down a window, Roger.” Emma complains.

“I knew it.” I mutter to myself, I thought his name was Roger.

Emma looks at me “What?”

I pause, “What?”

Roger rolls down the window, and then starts to hum to some song.

I think it's American Pie, and while that song is an American treasure, hearing it makes me uncomfortable. Hearing anything that resembles a song, out of anyone’s mouth, makes me uncomfortable.

Emma seems to notice.

“Can you not?” she asks Roger, who returns her an annoyed look.

“Relax, Emma.” Roger puts his cigarette up to his mouth, “It would be pretty obvious if I was one of those brainwashed freaks.” he huffs. Emma opens her mouth to bite back a response, but is interrupted by Liv who gets in the driver’s seat.

She does not look happy.

“I’m going to guess the talk with Brian did not go well.” I muse, as Liv angrily starts up the car.

“Oh no, it went great. He was really reasonable, calm, and not a total dick.” She says sarcastically.

She puts the car in reverse, and then back into drive as we exit the parking lot, and go onto the road.

“Is your friend always that prickly?” Roger asks, throwing his cigarette out the window.

“He is not my friend and yes.” Liv states.

“I’m not shocked. His name is Brian.” Emma says as she buckles her seat.

While I am proud that she is buckling her seat, I’m taken back.

“What?” I ask, looking at Emma for an explanation.

But she just shrugs and says “The shorter your name is, the bigger a dick you are.”

“Who told you this?” Liv asks, continuing to drive.

“No one.” Emma states, “It’s just fact.”

“You realize my name is Paul, right?” I ask her, but I’m not annoyed, only amused.

Emma holds up her hands, “I’m sorry, Paul, I don’t make the rules.”

“You actually did.” I state, “Are you saying I’m a dick?”

“You only tipped me five bucks, of course I couldn’t help but think ‘wow, what a dick.’”

I laugh, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find a ten.”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit excuses, Paul,” Emma says with fake sincerity.

“Wait, Emma has the same amount of letters as Paul. So are you a dick?” I muse.

“Oh, the biggest.” She confirms with a smirk.

“Can you stop flirting? I’m trying to take a fucking nap.” Roger groans as he leans against his window with his eyes closed. While I go red and become silent, Emma does not.

“Oh, I’ll get on it as soon as I start giving a shit about your sleep schedule.” Emma snaps at Roger who gives her the bird in response.

I can’t help but smile.

I would be a lying if I say that everything feels perfect right now, because it doesn’t. But I would also be lying if I say this moment does not feel good. I like sitting in this car, sitting next to Emma as we drive to figure out what comes next.

I’m ready to face what comes next.

I think I finally am.


	10. Ten

“I don’t understand how he could possibly win a fight against thirteen men through hand to hand combat, it’s almost statistically impossible.” Corey states, “It’s frustrating and frankly confusing, Liv.”

Corey pushes up his glasses, and takes a bite of his sandwich. I think its tuna.

It smells like tuna.

“It’s a complex book.” Liv defends.

“Fermat’s Last Theorem is complex. ’Sweeping Vengeance of Thorns’ is not.” Corey huffs, almost comedically, “The adjective you are looking for is convoluted.”

Liv crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at Corey, still eating his sandwich. Liv and Corey continue their debate, but I’m not really paying attention to either one of them.

It has been a week since reuniting with Emma. And while our reunion, at best, simply had a rocky start, it seemed to have ended okay. She seemed to be alright. Well, I don’t know if that’s true. Emma still seems like Emma, but I still couldn’t help but gawk at the dark circles beneath her eyes a week ago. I wanted to ask about it, but…um, I couldn’t find a good time between losing my shit in front of everyone and arriving at the cabin for about four seconds, and then heading back to Summer Home. 

Without Emma. 

How can a week feel like a year?

It’s been a week since I have last seen Liam. He had decided to stay and help Emma’s group with the transition process. Liv also informed me of his plan to form bonds with the new survivors. 

Apparently, Emma is one out of thirty-six people in her group, tightly packed into a large, obscure log cabin deep in the woods. I got to see it briefly when we drove back to pick up Liam, not knowing his plans of staying for the week. But it won’t be long until I see him again. 

Liam and the other survivors are coming back to Summer Home today. 

Emma is coming today. 

“Paul read it.” Liv points at me. 

Please don’t bring me into this.

“I am happy for Paul, I hope he enjoyed it.”

I did not.

The book, the one she is pushing onto Corey, is about cowboys. I’m also pretty sure there is a plot line with the main character’s sister being kidnapped. To be honest, I don’t remember. I spaced out a lot while reading it, but that’s not entirely the book’s fault. I have been easily distracted lately.

But in my defense, there is a lot on my mind. 

Well, not a lot on my mind, mostly just Emma.

And also on how to properly shuffle, because I still have no idea how to do it without bending the cards. 

“You know what, its fine.” Liv sighs, “You don’t have to read it”

I haven’t seen Emma in days. What is she doing now? Packing? Emma seems like the person who packs the day of. 

What if I see her again and everything becomes awkward? What if I forget how to talk to her? What if she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore? I wouldn’t blame her if she doesn’t.

“I will, Liv, but…” Corey leans in close to Liv, looking like he is about to tell her a secret, “I was digging through some old case studies, and okay, you won’t believe this.” Corey says, becoming more excited and gesturing with his hands wildly, “Telepathy is something that has always remained in the category of impossibility, but oddly, there are animals that through phenomes ca-“

“Liam’s back, nerds.” Brian interrupts, coming out of fucking nowhere. He turns to Corey and points, “He wants to talk to you.”

Wait, if Liam is back, that means Emma is b-

“Oh, l-let me grab my notebook.” Corey stammers, thrown off guard by Brian. 

Brian scrunches his face up in confusion, “Who brings a fucking notebook for a conversation?”

“Maybe people who can actually do their job.” Liv answers for Corey, walking past Brian. 

I follow Liv as she leaves the room we were previously eating lunch in, for obvious reasons. The biggest being; I do not want to be alone in a room with someone who kind of hates me. All right, not kind of hates me, more like absolutely, full on hates me. But who knows? Maybe one day Brian will wake up and not want to murder me anymore? Maybe in a month or two we’ll be the best of buds and go on hikes and pottery classes together. 

Or maybe none of that will happen, and he’ll always hate my guts?

Yeah…that one sounds more right. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t run out of the room.” Liv tells me as I try to match her pace. I move to her side and walk down a narrow hallway. 

“I mean, Brian is terrifyi-“ I start to say.

“No, not because of Brian.” Liv clarifies. “Emma.”

Oh.

Liv and I have never really talked about Emma, so I’m a little thrown back by Liv talking about her now. I mean, Liv did try to help me find her when I previously thought she might have been at this camp, but she wasn’t, so Emma was never mentioned in any of our conversations again. Liv is a curious person, but I don’t think she likes to pry. Something I very much appreciate.

“Emma.” I state back, unsure of what to say.

Liv raises her eyebrows, “Yes. Emma. You do remember her, right? She’s the short one you make googly eyes at.”

“What?” I ask, my voice raising two octaves.

Liv smirks, “You should go see her.”

“Um…she is probably busy.”

Liv frowns and stops walking, making me stop abruptly, and almost fall over. 

“Paul, how could she be busy?” Liv asks while putting her hands on her hips. I pause and avoid the eye contact Liv is currently attempting to establish. 

“Uh…you know…with like packing and…”I mumble, “….stuff.”

She shakes her head, “Do you not want to talk to her?”

“No!” I say far too loudly, I know this because Liv’s eyebrows raise even higher. “I just…don’t know if she wants to see me.”

I run my hand through my hair, and Liv lets out an unbelieving scoff.

“Paul, you are so clueless, it’s almost kind of impressive.” 

“Thank you?” I ask, but Liv does not falter.

“Do you not remember when you guys were flirting the whole car ride to the cabin? The. Whole. Car. Ride.”

“Yes, I do remember that. But I also remember that time I completely fucked up her life and tried to puke blue shit in her mouth.”

“Paul, th-“ Liv tries to but in, but I’m not done yet.

“I also remember when she finally tried to get closure for all the bad shit I’ve done to her, but because I had to lose my shit, she didn’t get to. No, she had to coddle me.”

I look down at my feet and close my eyes tightly.

“I was sinking, Liv. And I tried to pull her down with me.” I whisper and then lift my head, “I’m not going to let it happen again.”

Liv is silent for a few seconds but then eventually responds “Paul, you didn’t try to do anything. The Hive did.” 

I open my mouth.

“Tha-“

“No, you spoke your piece. Let me speak mine.” Liv states.

I shut my mouth. 

Reluctantly.

“Thank you.” Liv sighs, “Paul, no one is ‘coddling’ you. Emma forgave you because you didn’t do anything to forgive. She is mad at the Hive, not you. So you can sprout all this shit about ruining lives, but I’m sorry, it’s bullshit.”

Liv puts one of her hands on my shoulder, “Now that we have cleared that out of the way, go talk to Emma.”

She then turns away from me and walks down the remainder of the hallway. 

It takes me a few seconds, but I follow.

I don’t know if I actually believe Liv’s words, but I want to. I really want to. 

As I exit the building, I start to grow with confidence. 

I’m going to find Emma; I’m going to talk to her.

But, well, after two or three steps, I start to think that she probably has a lot to unpack, and I don’t want to be a distraction. 

But I need to talk to her. I’m going to find her.

But of course…..I could try to talk to her tomorrow.

Or now.

Or actually, maybe in a week. It takes a while to unpack.

Contrasting thoughts start to wage a war in my head. This is so frustrating. I can’t help but walk over to one of the buildings and rest my head against the front wall. God, I probably look like a weirdo.

I just wish I knew what to do, or at least what the right thing to do is. 

“Fuck.” I say quietly as I bang my head against the wall. 

I don’t know how long I do this, but I’m going to assume long. 

“Paul?”

I turn around.

It’s Emma.

Shit.

Do I hug her? 

Is that appropriate? Or would a firm, but affectionate handshake be better?

She is standing a few feet away with her arms crossed, and her eyes narrowed.

Her eyes are narrowing at me.

“Whatcha you doing there?” she asks.

Well, fuck.

“I was just…um………" What the fuck do I say? "………….chilling.”

Oh my god, someone fucking kill me.

She sits down in the grass and folds her legs as she looks up at me.

“Banging you head against the wall is…..chilling?” Emma questions skeptically, I think she is sort of amused by this.

“Yeah.” I try to think of something else to follow my ‘yeah’ with, but in the end, I decide simplicity is for the best. 

Emma nods, “I’m going to be real, Paul, that’s pretty fucking weird.”

“Oh, I try.” I say.

A smiles breaks out on her face, and I can’t help but match it.

I sit down next to her in the grass, sitting about a foot away. I bring my knees to my stomach and lean my back against the wooden wall.

“Have you unpacked?” I ask her, but she shakes her head.

“Nope, for me to unpack shit, I would need to have shit.” She remarks as a chuckles rises from me.

Her skin is far more tanned than it was when she was a barista at Beanies. Emma has never been pale, but it is obvious she has been out in the sun more recently. I am the same way, but my skin has become less of a sun kissed tan, but more of a sun punched red disaster. 

“This place is insane.” Emma tells me, looking at her surroundings.

“A bit, yeah. It was a lot to take in at first.” I respond, but she doesn’t respond back.

Emma doesn’t say anything for a while, and so I don’t either. She just watches people walk by as she runs her hands through the grass. I want to say something to break the silence, but I’m too scared too. She looks deep in thought. 

I wonder what she is thinking about. Is it about what I did? Maybe I’m being presumptuous by assuming she is thinking about me. After all, we barely know each. We had a connection but I ruined any real chance we had. I also probably have sca- “Are you okay, Paul?” Emma asks, making eye contact.

I squirm, “Um, yeah. You?” I ask.

“I’m being serious.” Emma says, “Like for the first fucking time, but I am. You hate musicals, that’s like your main thing. And for what? Months? They made you walk around every day with smile on your face; singing songs you despise, and doing shitty dance numbers. I can’t even fathom going through all of that shit. So I want to know, Paul, are you okay?” She asks and waits for my answer.

I pause. I don’t know what I should tell her. A part of me wants to reassure her that I’m completely fine.

But I don’t know if I can lie to Emma.

“I…don’t know.” I simply say. 

A silence starts to linger in the air.

But after a few seconds, she simply replies back “Okay.”

She then pulls herself up from her sitting position in the grass and then looks to me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before.” She tells me as she holds out her hand. I grip it and she helps to pull me up from the ground.

“Yeah, it took an apocalypse for me to change my closet.” I admit.

“Of course it did.” Emma laughs. 

We walk through Summer Home and continue to talk as we do so. I point out buildings and tell her about them. Sometimes she’ll ask about certain buildings I know nothing about, and when I say I don’t know, she tells me what she thinks they are for. 

“Perkins!” Terrence yells.

He is standing next to Liam, who I have not seen in a week. Liv is also standing next to them, but she isn’t looking at me. She and Liam are in deep conversation, while Terrence is waving us over. As we walks towards the group, Liv and Liam break off their conversation.

I face Terrence and feel uncomfortability stirring in my chest. I honestly don’t know what to think of Terrence. The only interaction I have ever really had with him was when he tried to rob us and abandon me and LIv in the woods. So yeah….I don’t have an overwhelming amount of faith in the guy. 

“Paul.” Liam says.

I wait for him to finish his sentence, but he never does. 

“Liam…” I respond hesitantly, unsure if a name is actually a form of greeting. 

Terrence turns to Emma, “Lola wants her pillow back.” 

Emma groans dramatically and rolls her eyes, “I don’t have her fucking pillow.”

“That is not what she said.” He tells her.

“Are you being serious? ‘That is not what she said.’ I’m sorry, I had no idea we were still in fucking middle school. Did she tell you to ask me this during lunch or recess?” she asks sarcastically.

“You don’t have recess in middle school.” I voice. 

Emma looks at me and rolls her eyes once more, “Either have my back, Paul, or get the fuck out.” She tells me, no real malice in her words.

“Oh….then fuck Lola.” I declare weakly, and Emma nods and turns to Terrence.

“Fuck Lola.” She repeats.

“I will not fuck Lola.” Terrence responds.

What the fuck is this conversation?

“Okay.” Liv says, seeming to also find this conversation perplexing. “I’m going to go talk to some of the new survivors about the rooming situation.”

“Oh, I’ll come with you.” Emma tells her, and they start to walk off together.

I look at Terrence and Liam. Two people who kind of make me uncomfortable.

I point to Emma and Liv, “I-I’m going to follow.”

Terrence doesn’t seem to care, nor does Liam. So I jog up to the girls and follow their pace. 

“You didn’t want to stick around with the guys?” Liv asks.

“As appealing as that might be….um no, not really.” I admit.

“Do you have some problem with Liam?” Liv asks, already ready to solve a problem. 

If there is one thing I have learned about Liv, it is that she is a mediator. She works with people and fixes any misunderstandings that have been laid in front of her. 

“No,” I answer. “I mean, he’s intimidating, but most badasses are.”

“Being around me must be overwhelming then.” Emma says with that smile that demands a smile in response. 

“Horribly” I affirm.

“You know what, you blew up a meteor.” Emma concedes. “You’re a badass too.” 

“Thank you.” I laugh.

But Emma always makes me laugh. 

I look over to Liv, and am startled by her wide eyes and pursed lip. Why is sh-

Oh.

Fuck.

“What?” Liv asks, clearly not enjoying being kept out of the loop.

I guess now is the time to tell her I was the one who blew up the meteor.


	11. Eleven

“What the fuck?”

Liv is like a mother; she isn’t angry, just disappointed. 

“Why would you keep this a secret?” She asks from her chair across the room. After my revelation, Liv had led us to some empty storage room.

That’s right, I said “us”. Emma is standing next to me with her hands in her pockets and her back against the wall. I think she feels guilty for revealing my secret. But it wasn’t supposed to be a secret; it just sort of became one. 

“This opens up a multitude of questions about the regeneration process.“

Oh yeah, Corey is here too. 

Liv decided that she was not the only one who deserves an explanation. Corey is standing near Liv and it seems like he can barely contain himself. His curious and excited nature is contrasting Liv’s stone cold behavior in this moment. 

“You look perfectly fine.” Corey states perplexed, scratching his head with his pencil.

“Um…thank you?” I question.

Corey shakes his head, “If you were the one who blew up the meteor. You should, well, be dead. And…” He pauses but then chuckles to himself, “You are not. That means only direct penetration of the brain is fatal to the alien race.”

“Yeah dude, kind of figured that out a while ago.” Emma says, clearly enjoying this conversation as much as I am. 

“No.” Corey looks to Emma, “We had always assumed that some kind of harm to the host’s brain would kill the parasite, but it is now evident that it has to be done in a certain away. The brain needs to have an unrepairable wound. Paul’s brain had to have been damaged during the explosion, but it is probable that his brain was not torn apart, for it was able to reconstruct itself.” 

Corey walks over to me and stares at my head, kind of weirdly. Well, not kind of weird, more like insanely weird, but Liv is unfazed.

“So are you saying that we need to do more than shoot the infected?” Liv asks.

Corey snaps his head to her, “Maybe…” He questions and thinks for a moment, “I believe shotguns can cause enough damage, but I think anything that does not execute the same level of damage will prove itself inadequate.”

Corey paces arounds the room and tucks his pencil behind his ear. 

”I’ll tell Liam.” Liv sighs as she rises from her seat, but Corey stops in his spot.

“No,” He says turning towards her, “I will tell him, I need to talk to him about our weapons.” Corey states nervously, I wonder if talking to Liam makes Corey as nervous as it makes me. 

Corey exits the room, leaving an awkward silence between Liv, Emma, and I. Me and Emma don’t say anything as we look around the room, but Liv isn’t looking around the room. She is glaring at me, or at least I think she is glaring at me. I can’t tell how upset she is. 

“You never answered my question.” She tells me, breaking the lingering silence. “Why did you keep this a secret?”

I look to her, and try to meet her intense gaze, “It wasn’t a secret. It just…..” I’m trying to grasp the right words. “…….never came up.”

Those are not the right words.

Liv narrows her eyes and Emma winces. 

“Never came up?” Liv scoffs unbelievably, “I’m sorry I forgot to give you the survey asking if you ever blew up a hive mind meteor.” 

“Okay…..why don’t we chill? Paul fucked up, but it happens.” Emma shrugs, trying to play mediator, but Liv ignores her.

“You are allowed your secrets, but not this.” Liv points at me, “I didn’t ask about your Hive time because I can’t even imagine that shit. And I didn’t ask about Emma, because that was your business.”

Emma widens her eyes, and my cheeks start to grow red.

“But this was important information, and you should have told me, or Corey, or Liam, or…..just anybody.”

“I’m sorry, Liv.” I say, because that is the best thing I can say right now.

Liv shakes her head. “Don’t apologize, Paul. Just……don’t do it again.”

And with that, Liv leaves through the doorway leaving me with my guilt.

Emma whistles and then abandons her position against the wall and stands right in front of me. She just sort of looks at me for a moment, trying to decipher the look on my face, and then puts her hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She asks. 

I sigh, “Um…yeah, I will be.”

Emma nods and gives a shaky laugh, “That was fucking intense.” 

I give her a shaky laugh in return. “Yeah, but I had it coming.” I admit. 

“Maybe, but while Liv does seem nice, I don’t know her so I don’t really give a shit.”

I chuckle, and so does she, but yet I can’t help but face the floor in shame.

I know I should have told Liv, and I don’t know why I didn’t. I was going too, but then too much time passed, and I felt like I had lost my chance. So I tucked the problem into a folder in my brain and kept it there, deciding to deal with it when the time came.

I guess that time is now. 

“Hey.” 

I look up, broken from my train of thought.

“Come on.” Emma tells me as she grabs my hand. 

Her hand wraps around mine and begins to warm my hand up as she leads me out of the empty room. We walk out of the building and start to stroll through the grass, but I am not tuning into my surroundings. I am watching Emma and her brown hair that is swaying as she walks. 

“God, I’m so fucking hungry.” Emma groans, “Is there any place where we can eat in this fucking fortress?”

“The cafeteria, uh, provides breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but they wouldn’t have anything right now.” I respond.

Emma rolls her eyes, “Of course.”

“But…” I add, “I can get you something.”

Emma grins, “Fuck yeah.” 

I then become the one to lead us, making my way through the camp and guiding us to my rooming building. She follows me as I walk up the stairs leading to my room. We are no longer holding hands, but that is fine. My hands are a little clammy and I prefer her not knowing that.

“Is this where you stay?” Emma asks, as I open the door and let her in. 

“Yeah.” I answer.

She considers the room, “It’s nice.”

“It’s a shithole.” I state.

“Yeah, it’s a shithole.” She informs me, “But it’s seems like a homey shithole.”

I snort, “Thank you.”

I open my fridge and start to pull out some turkey and cheddar cheese slices that I was given a few days ago. Well, not really given, but had received from trading some marsh mellows Liv got from one of her missions. 

“Sandwiches?” Emma asks. 

“Um, no, not really. I don’t have bread.” I answer.

“Wait,” She pauses, “You have fresh turkey, but not bread?”

“Uh….”

“I’m not complaining.” Emma makes clear, “My diet, the past months, have consisted of crackers and cold beans.”

Emma lifts a slice of turkey to her mouth and then starts to chew.

“Jesus Christ, I missed turkey.” She confesses.

“Right? I never thought I would.” I admit, “I wish I had some ketchup.”

Emma freezes, “For the sandwich?”

“Yeah, I always put ketchup in my sandwiches and then would stick potato chips inside.”

“That is so fucking gross.” Emma laughs. 

“Probably.” I nod, “But damn was it good.”

“You had bad parents if they let you eat that shit.”

“Oh, my dad hated it.” 

“And your mom?” Emma raises her eyebrows. 

“Um….”

I jump when I hear a knock at the door.

Emma looks to me, and I move from the tiny part of the room that serves as a kitchen.

I don’t think Liv really wants to talk to me right now, so I’m a little curious to see who is on the other side of the door. But I am speechless when I open the door, and find that Brian is the one outside of my room. His arms are crossed as he stares me down, “Liam’s office. Five minutes.” He declares before walking off.

I watch him go with no words. 

“I love how friendly everyone is.” Emma jokes as she combines her cheese and turkey, and then rolls them up. 

I really want to laugh, but I’m kind of distracted by Brian’s crypticness. 

I’m pretty sure I’m fucked.


	12. Twelve

I am trying to not look guilty.

Even though I am.

Liam is rummaging through the papers on his desk as I sit across from him, fiddling with my hands. I think I am fiddling with them too much, so I decide to put them down at the sides of my chair. But now I’m simply just sitting and staring at Liam, not doing much of anything, which I’m pretty sure seems unnatural.

He hasn’t said anything except “Sit down, Paul” when I had first walked in. I thought he was going to address the whole blowing up the meteor debacle, but he didn’t.

He hasn’t said a word.

At least not yet.

I am sitting in his office, silent as a library filled with people. Well, filled with people who have human decency and know how to be fucking quiet in a library. I don’t understand why people are unable to do that simple task, like its ridiculo-

Okay, I’m not thinking about this right now.

Liam sighs, and looks up from his papers, “All right.” He states, breaking the heavy silence.

Is his chair taller than mine, or is he just taller? I had heard people like to make their chairs taller as an intimidation tactic. But I don’t think Liam needs tactics for intimidation, I think he is doing a banged up job already.

“We need to talk.” Liam declares.

Oh fuck.

Am I getting kicked out because I lied? I mean, I didn’t lie, I just never told them about blowing up the meteor. Is that a lie by omission? I don’t th-

“We’re doing another Clivesdale mission in a few days. I want you to come.”

Oh.

I don’t say anything. I think the overabundance of shock racing through me is causing my lack of words. Liam scrunches up his forehead in confusion.

“Paul?” He questions, leaning forward in his seat.

“Okay.” I respond weakly.

Does he not know? Have Liv and Corey not told him yet?

“I think I want us to move out Saturday. I know it is soon, but we were unable to complete our mission a week ago, so it needs to be soon.”

“Okay.” I repeat.

Should I say something?

“I also want to take back two of the infected, not one.”

“Okay.”

“So we will need to take more cars, therefore more people.”

“Okay.”

“I will also need you to pose undercover as a Swedish robot.”

“Okay.”

Wait.

“What?” I ask.

“We’re not doing that.” Liam chuckles, “I just wanted to see if you were still listening.” He reassures, “You seem a little….disoriented.”

Liam gives me a glance dosed with confused concern.

Yeah, he doesn’t know yet. I bet it would be honorable for me to come clean right now, but it might also be stupid. Oh….

Fuck it.

“I blew up the meteor.” I confess quickly, some of the words jumbling together.

I look down at my feet and wait for the explosion.

But I wait for a while, until I hear, “Okay…..”

Liam’s voice causes me to look up.

“So does Saturday seem like a good day for the mission? I originally thought Sunday would be best, but I don’t think we can afford any wasted time.” He continues, clearly unbothered by my confession.

I narrow my eyes and scrunch my forehead, perplexed. I look into Liam’s eyes and spot nothing resembling fury or betrayal. Is he hiding it?

Wait, did I say it so mumbled that he didn’t understand?

Liam waves his hand in front of my face, “Earth to Paul.”

I blink at him, “Um…did you hear me?” I question, “About the meteor?”

Liam nods and crosses his arm, “Yes.”

He leans back in his chair, “So does Saturday sound good?”

“Um….yeah, it sounds great. But…” I am trying to not roam into dangerous territory, “Do you not like….care?”

Liam sighs. “I’m going to be honest with you, Paul. I don’t really give a shit.”

I pause.

“Oh………..cool.” Surprise takes root in me and I take a breath.

“Not that I don’t give a shit.” He responds quickly and reassuringly, thinking my relief is disappointment, “I am very appreciative of your efforts to save humanity.”

“Um….thanks.” I respond, “But…are you not angry?”

Somedays I wonder what life would be like if I wasn’t an idiot.

Why am I questioning this? If Liam doesn’t give a shit, then he doesn’t give a shit. I don’t need an explanation. I mean, I would like one. But that doesn’t matter, if he doesn’t ca-

“Listen Paul,” Liam begins to crack his knuckles idly, “There might be implications of the information you did not share or…there might not be. To be honest, I highly doubt you withheld information due to any malintent. And frankly, while I am not involved in the science side of curing the infected, seeing as that is Corey’s lane, I don’t believe it changes any work we have done here. So…no, I’m not angry.” Liam states as he leans his back against his chair.

“Oh,” I respond, “That’s a relief.”

And I mean it.

I was not expecting for Liam, out of everyone, to take this the best. I mean, Corey doesn’t seem to bothered by it, but Liv….I don’t know what I’m going to do about Liv.

“Now,” I snap my attention back to Liam, “Are we ready to move onto the plans for Saturday?”

I nod.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

 

*****

 

**_You can’t leave_ **

_I’m too scared to look back._

**_It is time, Paul_ **

_I keep my head forward. If I stop long enough to look back, it will get me. Kill me._

_I have to keep running._

**_We can fix you_ **

_I don’t know where the words are coming from. I don’t know if they are being spoken out loud or if they are echoing in my mind. I don’t know._

_I don’t know anything._

**_We will fix you_ **

_I don’t want to be fixed._

**_Paul_ **

_Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Sto-_

**_PAUL_ **

_STOP IT. STOP IT. LEAVE ME AL-_

I’m on the floor.

Sleep no longer claims me, but now my racing heart and lack of breath does.

Well…..that was fucking awful.

I open my eyes and take in the surroundings of my familiar room. Panic reels through my chest. I breathe deeply in and out, attempting to soothe myself, but find it lacking. I clutch my shaking hands together, staring up at the ceiling.

It takes a few minutes, but some of the panic does start to come down. I bring my hands to my face and begin to rub my wet eyes. I then lift myself back onto the small bed. This is not my first night of waking up from a shitty nightmare, but I would like it to be my last. My dreams or better phrased: fear inducing, sanity crumbling nightmares are vivid, always leaving me a little, well, discomposed.

I rise from the bed, knowing that the idea of going back to bed is useless now. I’m not going back to sleep. I never do after one of these episodes.

Even after I take a hot shower, I still lie in bed awake, eyes open, my thoughts beginning to drift to memories of my time in the Hive. I try to steer my brain away from this, but all of my attempts transform into ashes. The never ending slideshow of my fuckups continues to play.

_Let me puke in your mouth_

I shut my eyes tight and try to think of something else. Either it being my day or what I had for lunch two days ago. I believe I had a salad, but it also co-

_Just open your food bin_

I need my brain to shut up. I just want it to shut up. I just want some silen-

_And you can join the Hive_

Alright, I have to get out of this fucking room.

I need some air.

I exit the room, and then before I barely even register, exit the building. I walk across the grass in a gray t-shirt and sweat pants. And crap, I am also barefoot. I forgot to grab some sneakers which I really regret. Before the apocalypse, my Facebook would constantly have pop up articles about stuff like toe fungus or athlete’s foot. And while living during the apocalypse does suck, I do believe living during the apocalypse with athlete’s foot would suck even more.

I almost turn back to grab some shoes, but I don’t. My eyes move towards a figure sitting a few yards in front of me, her knees to her chest.

“Emma?” I ask.

Emma whips her head around, “Paul? Isn’t it past your bed time?” she jokes.

I smile and walk towards her, forgetting about any notion of returning to my room. “What do you think is my bed time?”

“Hmm…” She takes a moment to pretend to think really hard, “You seem like you’re in bed at 9pm and awake at 6am type.”

“So…I seem like I have the sleeping pattern of an elderly man.”

“Hey,” Emma raises her hands, “You fucking said it, not me.”

I sit down in the grass, “Why aren’t you asleep?” I ask her, changing the previous subject of my comparison to an elderly man.

“Oh, you know how it is; I can’t fix sleep into my busy schedule.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Your schedule?”

Emma nods, “My schedule.”

“Is sitting in the grass at…” I check my watch, “2am a part of this schedule?”

“Oh yeah,” Emma grins, “Next on the schedule is at 4:15am, it’s very important, I have to bounce a ball against a wall out of boredom.”

“Stimulating.” I state.

Emma chuckles, “Yeah, I think I found my calling.”

“So you’re giving up your dream of being a weed farmer for….bouncing a ball against a wall?” I question with a grin.

Emma’s face mockingly sours, “That sounds like fucking judgement, Paul.”

“No, of course not.” I laugh, “I think it is a very admirable skill.”

“Oh yeah, it is a fucking skill.” Emma remarks, “I’m thinking about going pro.”

“I’ll cheer you on when you make it to the Olympics.”

Emma snorts and then moves her legs away from her chest, and just lays them out on top of the grass.

“Why are you up?” She asks, looking forwards, apparently done with the joke.

“Oh,” I shrug my shoulders, “Just couldn’t sleep.”

She turns her head towards me, “Because of the mission tomorrow?”

It has been a few days since Liam first told me about the plans for the missions. I have been assigned the task of helping to grab some of the infected. Emma is also coming along with the mission, but she is part of the task group involved with grabbing food and supplies.

I am not scared for tomorrow, just more nervous for Emma. I know she can hold her own and doesn’t need me to worry about her. Yet, I still can’t help the anxiety that rises in my chest when I think about how she is going to be near the Hive.

“No,” I respond to her question, “My pillow just isn’t soft enough.”

My attempt at a joke doesn’t land, and Emma scans me with concerned eyes.

She wants to say something, but I interrupt before she can, “Are you nervous?”

“For the mission?” She asks, “Not really, only a little bit. I have faith that I’m too annoying to be taken.”

“I don’t think you’re annoying.” I tell her, “I never have, I don’t think I can.”

We meet eyes, “Paul,” She transitions her body to face mine better, “This is awkward, but do you remember our last conversation before the meteor explosion?”

Ah yes, when I was a dumbass and didn’t kiss her.

“Um yeah, I do recall.”

“I want to making something clea-“ Emma begins but I interrupt.

“Oh, you don’t have too. I understand.” I tell her.

She doesn’t feel the way I feel about her. After everything I’ve done, who would?

Emma looks bewildered, “What?”

“No, it’s okay. After everything that has happened, I get it.”

“Paul, th-"

“You don’t feel that way about me, I mean, what I have done is unforgivable. Not that if I didn’t do those things, not liking me the same way would be invalid. All of your emotion are va-“

“Okay, shut the fuck up.”

Emma rolls her eyes.

She grabs my shoulders with her hands, and I follow her command of silence. I watch her with wide eyes and an unmoving mouth.

“Paul, I like you. A lot.” She says this slowly, as if to make sure I absorb all of her words, “And not in a ‘What’s up, bro?’ platonic way, but in a romantic way.”

I can’t help but just stare at her in shock. I am elated, but again, shocked.

She like me. She likes me.

Holy shit, she likes m-

“Paul?” Her eyes search in mine.

“Yes?” I return.

“Are you going to say anything back?” She asks, “A response would be kind of fucking good right now.”

Oh. I should play it smooth.

“I like you so much, Emma.” My words rush out.

Well, smooth me lasted about zero seconds.

“From the moment I first saw you at Beanies and every day after, I couldn’t and still can’t help but be desperately in l-“

Careful. Carful. Carful.

“Desperately like you…I desperately like you a lot.”

Yeah, that was a nice save.

Emma’s lips reveal a smile and I can’t help but to mirror.

“Oh thank God,” She comments, “This was going to be so fucking awkward if you didn’t.”

She rests her forehead on my shoulder and laughs.

“Did you think I didn’t?” I ask incredulously.

“Not really, but I couldn’t help but doubt. You act like I have a disease whenever you’re around me. You avoid my eyes and stand at least five feet away. I concluded that I either smelled like shit, or you didn’t feel the same way about me.” She admits, lifting her head up, “And after many showers, the arrows started to point in the latter option’s direction.”

“No! I just…” I stumble, looking for words, “Didn’t want to assume.”

“Well, fucking assume.” Emma counters, “I have been flirting with you since coming here. The normal assumption would be that I like you.”

Ah.

That's good to know. 

“But, I never like to make assumptions.” I defend, “Normally, I get them wrong. There was this one time in the fourth grade, I was friends with this kid named Billy. Wait, no, his name was Gene. Or was it Billy? Either way, at recess, which on-“

Emma puts her hands on my face, making me falter.

“On…um, Thursdays for-um-recess w-“ I try to continue.

“Paul.” Emma interrupts, moving her thumb against my cheek.

It is so hard to look into her eyes and not just melt into the ground.

“Yes?” I ask with wide eyes.

I wait for her to open her mouth and tell me something, but instead she doesn’t. She just continues to look into my eyes, as if trying to pull something out.

“Emm-“

She kisses me.


	13. Thirteen

Emma is kissing me.

I have often fantasized scenarios like this, but this isn’t some fantasy, this is real. In the past, whenever I had thought about kissing Emma, I always imagined everything freezing around me. But that is not the case at all, everything is around me, present, still in motion, I’m the only one frozen as her lips move against mine.

Her lips are soft.

I am not good at reciprocating touch, far too awkward.

But she is so warm.

And beautiful.

And amazing. 

I close my eyes.

It is so hard to keep my mouth closed as we kiss, so I don’t. Normally, I would be grossed out by the exchanging of saliva. But I’m not thinking about saliva or germs right now.

I’m only thinking about Emma.

I don’t know what to do with my hands, but I don’t have to think when Emma takes her hands off of my face and takes ahold of my own. She puts them around her waist and pulls me in closer. She begins to rub her hands up my arms, and then places them behind my neck.

I think she makes some sort of noise. Or maybe I do?

My brain feels too foggy to think about it.

She starts to rub circles through my hair with her thumbs as we start to kiss more and more. The motion makes my hands clutch her waist tighter, and my lips press harder against hers. Everything is blurring, but I can’t bring myself to care. I don’t know if we have been kissing for twenty minutes or twenty seconds. But I also can’t bring myself to care about that either. 

My mouth chases her as she pulls away, leaving me to emit a tiny groan by the absence of warmth. The groan is not tiny enough for me to not feel embarrassment about my noise. I have to take a breath to collect myself, and when I do, I open my eyes. 

Emma is staring at me; her hands are still in my hair, rubbing soft circles into my scalp. And that is making it very hard for me to focus. 

Very. Hard. To. Focus.

We’re silent, not saying anything, yet still not moving away from how close we are. I want to break the silence, but I can’t get any words to rise out of me. I can only watch her, speechless.

Yet, despite my attempts to say something, Emma is the first to speak.

“Hey.”

She says this and for some reason, I start laughing. Not like a light chuckle, but a high pitch cackle. My face would be as red as a tomato if Emma was not laughing along with me.

“Hey.” I say back to her, once my laughter deceases.

She smiles at me.

“That was…”

“Yeah.” I state.

Emma lowers her hands from my hair and slides them down. They slide down to the middle of my chest; as Emma lowers her head, only to bring it up once again to meet my eyes. She bites her lip.

Emma and I are in awkward sitting positions, with our legs spread across the grass as we hold each other. She seems to realize this because she removes her hands from my chest and situates herself. I do the same, but I can’t help but miss her proximity.

“Um…” I say and Emma’s head snaps to mine, “So, what do we, uh, do now?”

“Well,” Emma replies, “I was thinking about breaking into the cafeteria and seeing if they have any leftover tacos.”

Of course.

“I doubt it.” I tell her, “I saw Brian put six tacos on his plate. We don’t have any leftovers.”

Emma rolls her eyes, “Of fucking course he did.”

“Y-yeah, I told him that we were only allowed to take three but then he told me, and this is the exact quote, ‘fuck off, bitch’. And yeah…I had a hard time arguing with that.”

“God, Every time he speaks, I want to kick him in the nuts.” She mutters.

I wince, “Oh, Emma.”

“What? He fucking deserves it!” She declares, “Are you telling me that you don’t want to kick him in the nuts?”

“No, I don’t. I’m a pacifist. I just want world peace and tacos for all.” I tell her.

“Listen Paul, sometimes a few eggs need to be cracked to get an omelet, and sometimes a few nuts have to be kicked to reach world peace.”

“Well, how can I argue with that logic?” I ask, and Emma shakes her head.

“You can’t.” She answers, and then crosses her legs, “I’m also surprised no one has already.”

“Kicked him in the nuts?” I ask, “Oh, he would have to grow some before anyone could kick them.”

Emma chuckles and raises her eyebrow, “Nice, Paul.”

“Oh, thank you. I will be honest, it took a lot of will power to not look around and see if he was behind me.”

Brian maybe a dick, but he is an intimidating dick.

“It is 2am.” Emma laughs, “Why would he be behind you?”

“You’re right, that’s ridiculous. Who would be up at 2am, just sitting outside?”

Emma smiles, “Only dumbasses.”

“Hey, I’m not a dumbass.” I state, “I won my fifth grade spelling bee. Could a dumbass do that?”

“Yes. Yes, they could.”

“Don’t dismiss my fifth grade spelling bee, I beat Garret Minkins.” I continue, “He was valedictorian.”

“Valedictorian or vale-dick-torian?” 

I chuckle, “No, actually he was really nice.” 

“Yeah, I felt shitty the moment I said it.” Emma admits, “Garrets are always nice.”

“Right?” I turn my body completely towards her. 

“I’ve never met a Garret who was dick. Same with people named Henry.”

I nod, “Me too. Also people named Emma.”

This causes Emma to smile, but yet lightly pushes me, “You shouldn’t flatter me, it’ll go to my head.”

I laugh, “Okay.”

“I’m being serious.” Emma insists, “Before you know it, I’ll be like Brian and think I’m the shit despite being unbearable.”

“Well…I think you are the shit.”

I do.

Emma tries to pull down her smile, but she can’t. And she pushes me once more, but it is never harsh. And God, it is worth it to see that smile.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” she tells me.

“But kicking Brian in the nuts will?” I ask, painting confusion on my face.

Emma raises her hand, “Yes, now you get it. I knew I liked you for a reason.”

“Oh no,” I reply, “You don’t just like me, you ‘like like’ me.” 

“I ‘like like’ you?” Emma scoffs, “Oh my God, are you in the eighth grade? Was that your first kiss?”

“No,” I answer, “But I wish it was.”

Emma stares at me for a moment, eyebrows raised, “The fuck?”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” I respond, embarrassed, “I was trying to be suave, but that didn’t, um didn’t really….yeah.”

Emma giggles at my bafflement to get my shit together, and puts her arms around my neck once more. “It was a good try though.”

“Was it?”

“No,” Emma admits, “But you’re cute so I’ll let it slide.”

I grin with fake cockiness, “I’m cute?”

Emma scoffs and shakes her head, “Hey, Paul.”

“Yeah?”

She doesn’t answer.

She kisses me again.

And if I’m honest, I can get use to this.


	14. Fourteen

It has been twelve hours since my kiss with Emma.

It has been ten hours since I went back to my room to try to get some sleep, which of course, I didn’t.

It has been five hours since Liam called everyone together to go over the plans for the mission today.

And it has been one hour since I got in the car with Liv to go to Clivesdale.

And we have been sitting in an awkward silence ever since.

We are currently in a dark, black SUV with Liv in the driver’s seat and me in the passenger seat next to her. There is no else in the car, our backseats are reserved for the two infected that we have been tasked with capturing. Four other people are also tasked with helping to grab some infected, but they are in a jeep behind us. 

For right now, it’s just me and Liv…..

Liv and I haven’t been fighting per say since the meteor incident, but just more of just not talking. We have seen each, have said hello, made small talk, but other than that, we haven’t really talked. I don’t know if she is still upset with me.

I should ask.

I look over to Liv. I look at her face that is currently blank and unreadable. I open my mouth, but then quickly shut it. 

Yeah….I’m not going to ask right now. 

We have a mission, and clearly she wants to focus on that. Plus, she said hello when I got in the car, and an angry person wouldn’t do that. Right?

This is ridiculous.

Okay, it has been days, I’m just going to apologize again. I will get it out there, and then we can deal with it. I don’t know if I should try to explain myself, or will it sound like excuses? You know what, I will just be honest. 

I’ll simply sa-

“Paul, I’m sorry.”

My head swivels to Liv so quickly, I’m sure it is almost comical.

What?

“What?” I ask, confused.

Liv’s hands clutch the wheel, “I overreacted like a child.” 

My mouth opens wide, and I gape like a fish.

“I’m sorry.” She states, staring at the road in front of her. 

“Liv,” I start, “You don’t have to be sorry, I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t, I’m the one who lied to her. 

“Don’t be.” She says, “I knew you didn’t keep it a secret out of deceit, or anything. I just….” 

She doesn’t continue on. After a few seconds, I believe she is just going to leave the sentence unfinished, but to my surprise, she doesn’t.

“In high school, I didn’t have a lot of friends. As the years progressed in school, I grew more quiet, and didn’t really know how to talk to people. So I just read, my nose always in a book. The problem was, my quietness made me seem standoffish. People thought that I was snobby and that I thought that I was better than everyone, but I didn’t. I just….” 

Liv shakes her head, “By the time I got to college, I opened myself up more and after a little while, I started making friends. I could talk to people easier, I finally felt like I was able to fit in. And then…well, one day, I came back to my dorm to find my singing roommate belting some ballad. And I, if I’m honest, freaked out. I have never been a fan of musicals so this shit show…it was just horrifying."

It is obvious Liv is having a hard time recounting all of this, her eyes are watery and her hands are white from clutching the driver’s wheel so hard, but she continues. 

“You know, I found Liam’s camp, and I’m lucky. I know I am, but sometimes, I feel cheated. I had finally reached a point where I felt like I was standing on solid ground only to go through an earthquake. But still, when I got to Summer Home, I tried to be friendly, and approachable. And it worked, I mean, people like me, but they aren’t my friends. The only friend I really have is Corey, but other than that, I only have people who are friendly, not friends.”

I notice that we are no longer in a route through the woods, but on a road with Clivesdale in view. We would have to leave the car soon, and I believe Liv notes that same thing, because her words begin to rush out.

“And I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends.” I interrupt, “I’m sorry, I di-“

“No, Paul. That is not what I meant. I know we are friends, but when I found out about the meteor thing, I took it too personally. I felt hurt that you didn’t share that with me, but I didn’t think about you. About what that must have been like, or anything else. No, I was focused on my shit and my insecurities.” 

Liv turns the steering wheel and sighs, “I’m sorry.”

We have finally reached the abandoned restaurant spot where we are supposed to hide out in and wait for targets. Liv pulls the car into a parking spot, and turns the engine off. 

“You’re not in the wrong, Liv.” I tell her, “And to make something clear, we are friends.”

Liv gives a light smile, “Yeah, and I’m happy we are.”

Someone knocks on my passenger window and I jump from my seat, spooked. 

This causes Liv to start laughing, and I look over to my window and see one of the task members, waiting outside of the SUV, signaling for us to get out. 

“Okay, that was funny.” Liv laughs.

I scowl, “Friends don’t laugh at their friends.”

Liv unbuckles her seat belt, “I think they do.”

We both get out of the car and gather near the other four on the task force. Liam is one of them and he is leaning his back against the black car Liv and I were just in. 

“All right,” He announces to the group, “Harry, Jim, and Lisa, I need you guys to go a few blocks down and head to the bowling alley. Only grab one of the infected and make sure he or she is heavily sedated. I don’t want a mess. Liv, Paul, and I will be staking out here. Is everyone clear about the plan?” Liam asks. 

No one speaks up or gives a no. 

Liam takes that as a cue for go time. 

The others jog down to the bowling alley as Liam leads me and Liv inside the abandoned restaurant. I am given a gun, which I don’t really think is a great move, but it was the move that was made, so I’m just going to roll with it. At least, after a lot of practice, my aim isn’t terrible anymore, only slightly bad.

Liam walks towards the bathroom and takes position, while Liv and I go to the kitchen. She turns her gun off of safety and I do the same. She crouches near the door and I am behind a table with one hand on my holster and the other on a syringe with a heavy sedative. 

Seconds turn into minutes as time feels slow in the midst of anticipation. 

I am trying not to move around too much, to be as silent as I can, but I’m having a hard time staying still. Waiting is causing me to become jittery, unlike Liv who is giving the essence of calm and collected. She seems to be completely unaffected, at least, until the sound of a door opening and footsteps disturbs the silence in the restaurant. 

Liv perks up and raises her gun as the footsteps become more audible along with their singing. The song sounds to be cheery as they sing “oohs” and “ahs”. It sounds as though the group consists of two men and one woman as I listen to their three part harmony. 

I stand, clutching my weapon, when the door to the kitchen opens and a tall man walks inside. He turns and quickly sees Liv, but it is too late for him to respond before she shoots him. He falls to the ground, and Liv quickly grabs him to pull him out of plain view when she is tackled.

I run into motion and raise my gun, but a girl is on top of Liv at angle that is too dangerous for me to shoot. I rush over and grab the girl, pulling her away as I get the syringe ready. Her back is to my face as she struggles in my arms.

She elbows my face which startles me and my grip on her starts to falter. She is pushing and scraping and singing.

She is singing.

Her voice. 

Oh my God.

Liv rises from the ground, which is good, because my sudden shock causes me to lose complete control of my grip.

I stare, with gun raised, as Alice falls to the ground.

Alice.

Alice, who is my Goddaughter, a girl I have babysat and drove to school countless times. 

Alice, my best friend’s daughter. 

My best friend’s murderer.

Liv gets on top of Alice and holds her down. This brings me back to reality and I rush over to help hold her down as she thrashes. But as I move to help, Alice looks up and finally gets a good look at me. Her smile chills me and leaves swirling discomfort in my stomach. 

“Paul.” Alice’s voice seems to echo, “We keep running into each other.”

I hear a gunshot in the distance. It is probably from the bathroom where Liam is.

“It can’t be coincidence.” She states, “The Hive misses you, Paul.”

Alice is just a girl, she doesn’t deserve this. She is just a girl. 

My hands move to the syringe, but Liv spots this right away.

“Not yet,” Liv tells me, “We need to wait for Liam.”

“Aren’t you going to say something, Paul?” Alice asks, “I thought you cared.”

I clench my mouth shut, trying to just wait for Liam.

All I have to do is wait.

“Or you know what, maybe you didn’t. I actually think maybe you didn’t care about me or my dad at all. Did you?” She asks, knowing exactly what she is doing, but I do too.

I was part of the Hive. I know the mind games, but knowing them still doesn’t lessen the blow of her words.

Liv is clearly confused by what is happening, but she seems to be putting most of her attention on making sure Alice stays down. Alice continues to thrash and struggle, but she also continues to goad along with struggling.

“You let Dad die. You don’t care about him. You don’t care about me.”

Liam pushes the kitchen door open and sighs out of relief.

“Good, I was unable to get my target to remain still so things became…fatal.” Liam states and then looks to me, “Sedate her.”

Alice seems to have some comprehension of what is occurring because she starts to sing deliriously. But once I inject the syringe into her neck, her singing fades into silence. 

Liv finally loosens her grip, and Liam throws Alice’s limp body over his back. I want to help, but I’m having a hard time moving from my spot on the ground. Liv gives me questioning look but I continue to stare forwards.

Alice was right.

I let Bill down.

I let Bill die.

But I can save his daughter.

I can do that.


End file.
